Bring the Pain
by Bad Company
Summary: Chibs/Maggie. Sequel to Blood, White, and Blue. After the explosion in "Smite", Gemma calls her cousin in Seattle, and things in Charming become much more complicated.
1. Calls

**Bring the Pain**

By Bad Company

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Maggie and Ava. **

**AN: This kicks off the continuation of ****Blood, White and Blue.**** It starts immediately after "Smite" and will follow season 2 from there. I'm going to try not to word-for-word spell out the scenes straight from the show – why mess with Sutter's masterpiece? – but will tweak some details to fit my AU. I'm also going to try and stretch time a little here, give me more room to tell the story.**

**Anyone following ****Back to Life****, no worries, I'm finishing it, coming down the home stretch even, but haven't had much writing time over the past week and this was already done. **

**Reviews are wonderful, I'll try not to disappoint with this story. This first chap is short, just an intro for all that's to come and updates might be slow at first. **

* * *

**Chapter 1: Calls**

Gemma watched Tara stalk off with her arms folded and guilt latched onto her with crippling force. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees, forehead in her hand. Bile rose in her throat, constricted her airway…just as it had that night she'd awakened with her hands tied over her head. She pressed her eyes shut, willing the memories away, but they came anyway.

The rank, acrid stench of burned gasoline and blackened steel hung in the air. There wasn't a breeze to carry it away. The blue lights on top of Unser's cruiser spun, throwing flashes of light across the T-M parking lot. The guys milled, cursing in hushed tones, rubbing their heads and scratching their beards, not comprehending what had just happened.

Gemma gapped her fingers and looked through them, eyes landing on the dark puddle of blood on the pavement. Chibs' blood.

The doc was right. She _should _have said something. Then a member of her family might not be fighting for his life in the back of an ambulance right now. But she had protected her husband, her son…retaliation would have dug them in a deeper hole, wouldn't it? She was saving them from themselves, wasn't she?

But the guilt remained. She couldn't help but feel personally responsible for the explosion. And she'd seen the girl, the one who had struck her, the one who had started the nightmare. She'd seen her outside the pharmacy with the van. Jesus, she could have prevented all this.

She closed her eyes against the sight of the blood. She loved all the guys as if they were her family, but Chibs…God, not Chibs. The paramedics had been shaking their heads, muttering that things didn't look good. Tara hadn't said it, but she wasn't optimistic either. He could be dying. Because of her silence.

He was one of her son's closest brothers. And he was…

On sudden impulse, Gemma pulled her cell out of her jacket pocket and scrolled hurriedly through her contact list. If Chibs didn't make it, if the unthinkable happened, there was someone who needed to know.

She found the desired number and pressed the call button. She waited. The other line rang once…twice…

"Hey, Gem."

Gemma pulled in a deep breath. "Mags…sweetie, there's…there's been…something's happened."

***

Panic. That was what Maggie chose to label the sensation that was burning like fire through her veins. The sensation that had her arms and legs trembling so bad she nearly dropped the random handful of clothing she'd pawed out of her closet. Jeans, sweatshirts, sweaters…she had no idea what any of it was, but she needed to take clothes. Yes, clothes were good, had to wear clothes. Didn't need to get arrested for indecent exposure.

She crammed the tangle of fabric into her soft-sided suitcase and made a crazed trip to her dresser for bras and underwear. She picked out the essential items through blurred eyes. She couldn't see well, hadn't been able to since she'd heard her cousin breathe those words through the phone.

_There was an explosion. Maggie…it was Chibs. _

Explosion? What the fuck kind of explosion happened in Charming? Was it…God, had it been the Irish? If there was a car involved, she was positive it had been them. And was he okay? Jesus, was he going to live long enough for them to get there?

Maggie's chest was so tight, almost as tight as all those fourteen years ago when she'd had her heart attack, the one that had changed the course of her life forever…

"Mom."

She snapped her head toward the door. Ava stood in the opening, dressed in flannel boxers and an oversize t-shirt with SONS emblazoned across the front in all caps; one Happy had left behind nearly a year ago and had been adopted as a sleep shirt by the thirteen-year-old. Ava's dark, straight hair fell past her shoulders, rumpled from her pillow, her brown eyes scrunched up in teenaged aggravation.

"I put your duffel bag outside your door," Maggie said in a hurry, stepping into her cramped master bath to collect her toiletries. "Make sure you pack enough stuff, light layers for Cali winter."

"Mom," Ava repeated, stronger this time. "It's eleven o' clock."

Maggie frowned as she pulled her shampoo out of the shower, then her razor, throwing it all in a Ziploc gallon bag. "I know, baby," she said. "You can sleep in the car."

Bare feet padded across the carpet and Ava poked her head into the bathroom door. "We can't leave tonight, Mom. It's too late. I have school tomorrow-,"

Maggie inhaled deeply, trying to dampen the panic, trying not to snap at her daughter for what she was suggesting. "I'll call the school in the morning. Go get your things ready."

There was a soft sigh. "Can't I just stay with Grammie?"

The panic in her gut twisted, became more painful, her chest constricted further. She closed her eyes against the trembling. "He's your _father_, Ava."

"Yeah, on paper maybe."

"Don't!" Maggie yelled, eyes snapping open and pinning her daughter with a look that had the teen backing away from the door. She sighed, ashamed that she'd been so loud. But the panic, God, the panic. All she wanted to do was get to Chibs, make sure he was okay with her own eyes. She took a deep breath and forced her features to soften. "I can't do this right now, Ava. We can't have the whole deadbeat dad argument again. He's your father and my…" she faltered, her what? "…And we love him. We're going."

"But-,"

"This might be the last time we see him!" Maggie felt strangled.

Ava's eyes widened at that.

"Go pack your stuff," she said softly. "We need to leave soon."

Ava's dark eyes glittered with a negative answer, but she knew better at this point. She nodded. "Aren't we supposed to have an escort if we cross state lines?"

Maggie shook her head, trying to think. "Hap's already in Charming…"

Ava involuntarily perked at the sound of his name.

"…and I'm not bothering anyone else this late. We'll go without." She glanced up and didn't recognize her own strained reflection. The source of her blurry vision became apparent when she saw the streaks of blackened, mascara-filled tears coursing down her face. She needed to get to California. Now.

***

Edmond Hayes put the phone back in its cradle in slow motion, as if he were pushing his arm through Jell-o. He let his fingers linger on the plastic once the thing was hung up, afraid they might quiver if he pulled them away too soon.

"Who was that?" his father asked behind him from the sofa.

Edmond licked his lips and worked them around, but couldn't seem to engage his vocal chords. This was bad. This was _seriously fucking bad. _

"Eddie?"

"Yeah…um," he licked his lips again as he turned to face Cameron. "Anonymous call," he explained woodenly. "There was an explosion at Teller-Morrow…car bomb."

Cameron tilted his head and worked his jaw in the opposite direction, small eyes widening a bit. "Huh," he said, not upset in the least. "Guess we have our new friends to thank for that."

Edmond swallowed thickly. "Aye. I suppose."

**TBC**


	2. Driving and Crying

**AN: Because I'm lazy and my internet isn't so hot, I didn't go back and rewatch the scene in "Falx Cerebri", so I can't recall exactly how Gemma and Tara's convo went down in the hospital. Oh well, I think I'm close enough.**

**Chapter 2: Driving and Crying**

It was fifty degrees outside and sixty inside the climate controlled confines of the '06 F150, but Maggie was roasting alive. Literally. She tugged at the crew neck of her long sleeved t-shirt and finally punched the window button on the door, lowering the tinted glass two inches. The sun was up, glittering through the blue depths of a cloudless sky and everything about the day spoke of life and alertness. But everything in Maggie's world reeked of death. _Highway to Hell _in the CD changer made her think of Chibs. The stretch of empty road ahead made her think of Chibs. Hell, the goddamn truck made her think of Chibs.

Her beloved black Monte Carlo with the white racing stripe down the top had conked out on her November of '05. The poor thing had been giving her warning signals for weeks, ones she'd ignored out of denial, but then it had finally sputtered to its death on her way to work one morning. It had been wrecked in '02, the frame was no longer stable, and the engine was toast. Replacing the necessary parts would have been more expensive than buying a new car. Unfortunately, she couldn't afford that either.

A week later, she'd found a shiny new, four-door blue pickup in her driveway. The keys had been under the mat and the registration in the glove box said it was hers. Paid in full. She'd hit Happy on speed dial, prepared to chew his ass out for stealing a truck, but he'd offered a raspy chuckle and told her it was a gift of the Scottish variety. He was just the delivery boy.

Returning to the present, Maggie stole a glance to the passenger seat. Ava was awake, but silent as a ghost as she stared through the window, watching the scrub landscape of northern Cali slip past. They had fought in the dark, damn near screamed at each other. They'd done it before the sun had come up, before it was light enough to see the tears shining on each others' cheeks. Now Ava was done, all yelled out and defeated. She had threatened to just leap out of the truck at one point and hitchhike back to Seattle. Maggie had enacted the child safety locks.

The last chords of "Night Prowler" growled to silence and a series of clicks and whirs issued from the dash while the next CD slid into position. The Scorpions were up next and Maggie punched ahead on the disk until she reached "Rock You Like a Hurricane"…she knew it was one of Ava's favorites.

"I used to sing this to you when you were a baby," Maggie said, wanting to talk about something, anything.

Ava sighed a made a show of digging through the front pocket of her hoodie for her iPod.

Maggie sighed too and dug the toe of her boot down further on the accelerator. She couldn't remember the last time she and her daughter had fought.

No, wait…she could. It had been four months ago, when she'd left Ava with her mother for the weekend so she could drive down and meet Chibs.

How was it that the two people she loved the most in the world caused her the most grief?

Sighing again just felt redundant so she leaned closer to the stream of cool air coming through the window as she turned off at the Citgo station. They could have made it to the Charming border before they needed gas, but she knew that her need to get to Chibs would be too overwhelming at that point.

She parked the truck in front of one of the pumps and sprung the door while she dug through her purse. All these damn places required you to pre-pay now that the economy had gone down the shitter.

"You want anything?" she asked Ava, despite the thumping of rap coming from the teen's earbuds.

Ava shook her head.

"Fine. I'll be right back. Lock the doors."

**-O-**

The raid on Weston's place had proved a bust; the only finds having been his two little shithead kids sporting some serious hardware. Hale waited in the driveway, a hand clamped around the arm of each kid. Clay had his head hung, beyond pissed. All the guys were antsy as hell that they'd hit another road block and Jax was storming off toward his bike, once again setting himself apart from the group.

To Happy, being a Nomad suddenly seemed like a brilliant fucking idea. Just a month ago, he'd seriously thought about putting in a request to join Redwood. Shit, he was never going back to Tacoma, which meant his officer status was long gone anyway. Might as well find a shady spot and start putting out root feelers again.

But the tension in SAMCRO was like a living thing, tearing at all the brothers. Belonging to no one was very appealing at the moment.

His phone trilled to life in his pocket, surprising him and apparently the Prez too because he shot him a funny look.

Hap didn't check the ID display as he flipped the Motorola open and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Happy?" the soft, youthful voice of a girl, definitely not a woman came through from the other line.

He recognized the voice, had heard it on a regular basis since the day said voice's owner had learned how to talk. "Ava?" he asked, shocked that she'd been the one to call.

That got the attention of anybody within earshot. Clay, Tig, and Opie looked at him like he'd just sprouted a third eye.

"S'up, kiddo? You okay?"

"No," Ava said. She almost sounded like she'd been crying. "Mom got a call last night about what happened to…to…my father."

"Shit," Happy muttered. He and the guys had all agreed not to scare the ever loving shit out of Maggie with the news of the explosion. Better to wait until the Scotsman was all patched up.

"Mom said you were in Charming…"

"Yep. I am."

"…And she says we're almost there."

"What?" Hap stuttered. "You guys are on the road? Where?"

Clay and Tig both launched their eyebrows up their foreheads at the revelation.

"I dunno, a gas station. Mom went in to pay, she'd be pissed if she knew I'd called..." Ava said. "But we're in California. I told Mom we should call you and wait for some of the guys-,"

"You're going to the hospital, right? To see your old man?"

"I guess…"

He sighed. Somewhere along the line he'd gone from badass biker to a fucking babysitter. And the Telford women in his life weren't easy charges. "Let me know when you get there," he said roughly. He put his hand over the receiver and cursed under his breath so she wouldn't hear.

Clay was looking at him like he damn well better start explaining himself. Hap ignored the glare and sought out Jax with his eyes. The VP had his helmet on and was prepped to crank his Dyna to life.

"Yo, Jax!" he called, catching the blonde's attention. "You're gonna want to hear this, man."

**-O-**

"Okay…yeah. See ya in a bit, baby," Gemma said before she snapped her phone closed. She was just about to move because her ass was numb from sitting on the plastic chair in the ICU waiting room for so long, and a thick wave of déjà vu rolled over her unannounced. Fourteen years ago she'd sat in this very room, awaiting news on the fate of the other half of that crazy train that was Chibs and Maggie. Maggie had been pregnant, beat to hell, and battling a premature heart attack thanks to the family flaw.

Gemma ghosted her fingernails down her own surgical scar, hating that the genetic defect had nearly taken her and her cousin, _had _taken Tommy and Alan.

The present situation only reminded her than no amount of patching up, no miracles of medicine could keep the club out of the crosshairs. Again guilt washed over her. Maybe she should have said something, maybe she should have talked about the rape…

She glanced up and saw Tara coming down the hall. The doc had changed into her typical mint scrubs and white coat, her hair piled up on her head. Gemma hadn't spoken to her since their little spat outside the clubhouse and her face was creased with guilt.

Tara remained standing as she recited what exactly was wrong with Chibs and what the doctors were prepared to do should the situation get worse. The possibility of his skull getting drilled through had Gemma's teeth on edge. The Queen rubbed at her forehead, an ache building over her left eye. All of this was just so much bullshit they didn't need right now.

"I'm sorry," Tara offered as she sat, clipboard in her lap. "What I said…"

"Don't worry about it," Gemma waved off the apology. "We're all wired right now."

Tara nodded. The two of them didn't need an abundance of words. "Hey…um, do you think I could…go home with you?" the doc said after a moment.

She was scared, terrified in fact. It was written all over her face. People getting blown to smithereens tended to do that to a person.

"Yeah."

"I've just got a few more things to do and then I'll be ready."

"It's fine. I figure I'll stay until Maggie shows up."

"Maggie?" Tara asked, brow creased. "Why do I know that name…_shit_. Maggie, as in you and Jax's -,"

"Cousin," Gemma finished. "Yeah."

"Jesus, I thought she moved away. What…?"

"She carried the pregnancy to full term," Gemma said, a wry smile hitting her lips in spite of the current situation. She was damned proud of the little girl. Tough cookie just like her cuz.

Tara looked like she'd been slapped. "So…she and Chibs…they have a kid?"

"Yep."

"Jesus," the doc shook her head as she stood. "Could the shit get any deeper around here?"

Gemma didn't like it when questions like that were posed. Always proved to jinx things.

**-O-**

James O'Phelan watched his woman smooth the front of her cream blazer down over her blouse. It never failed, didn't matter how many times he did it, every time he looked at her, satisfaction pooled heavy in his gut…other places too. She was getting older, had crow's feet around her eyes, and God knew he'd never liked all that kinky hair of hers, but he became hard just looking at her. It wasn't about Fiona, not in the physical sense; it was about who she had belonged to.

None of the strip clubs, porno mags, hookers or fantasies could measure up to the aphrodisiac that was taking something that was another man's. It went back to those primal, caveman days when males carried clubs and dueled to the death over females in season. And under the Armani suits, the Rolex, the Navigator…under all that showy stuff, Jimmy loved that he'd done something so ruthless. Fiona Larkin could have been a toothless fucking hag for all he cared. She had belonged to Telford. And he had taken her. Forcibly. And that ruined shell of a Scotsman had been scattered to the farthest corner of the globe afterward. Scarred. Shamed. Jimmy loved it.

He stood, black slacks not able to conceal the bulge of his arousal, and stepped up behind her in the mirror. One corner of her mouth twitched, just the tiniest in recognition. Their relationship was not one of love and affection. It was a mutual loyalty to the Cause. And a shared bloodlust that had enabled her to help him get rid of her husband. Officially, Filip and Fi were still married. It gave Jimmy good leverage. When his Scottish puppet resisted the tugs at his strings, it only took one veiled threat about his little missus. And then he went along like an obedient little doggy.

"You going to check in on our boy?" Jimmy asked, turning his face into her neck so he could smell her natural perfume. Fi didn't wear makeup or fragrance. Au natural so as not to attract other males. Jimmy didn't like rivals.

"Aye," she said, her expression becoming more pleased. "Tomorrow though. I'll let the dust settle."

"I can imagine he'll be…_thrilled_…to see you."

She snorted. "You can't go, luvie. Too risky."

"Aye." He turned away from her, bored with the back and forth. He went to the bedside table and picked up his Rolex, sliding it down over his wrist. "Tell 'im we all send our love." He grinned, feeling his canines slide out from under his upper lip like vampire fangs. "Tell 'im to get well _real soon_."

**-O-**

By the time they entered Charming proper, Maggie and Ava hadn't exactly made up, but the dead silence had dispersed. The real apologies and the break downs would come later. But at least for now, they weren't at each others' throats. It killed Maggie when they fought, made her positively sick. They were, in a very cheesy, _Gilmore Girsl_ fashion, best friends. Almost more sisters than mother and daughter.

To smooth things over, Maggie had docked Ava's iPod into the truck's stereo so they at least wouldn't be separated by earbuds. The decision had turned out to be a bit of a bad one. If she had to listen to one more song that involved Lil' Wayne she might throw the damn iPod out the window.

Maggie hadn't driven the streets of Charming in a long, long time. They were familiar, but fuzzier than they had been. The town hadn't decayed, just aged, gaining the stress marks of years gone by. Floyd's was still in business. Lumpy's too. Nostalgia slammed her hard as she turned down the streets, buried memories showing her the way as if she'd just been here yesterday.

St. Thomas loomed up on the left and she cut on her blinker. Anxiety and dread pushed to the surface of her emotional barrier, making her hands quake as she piloted the truck into a visitor's spot and killed the engine. Afterward, she sat stupidly, staring through the windshield, keys clenched in a rigid fist.

"So this is it," Ava said. "Huh."

"Huh, what?" Maggie turned, pegging the thirteen-year-old with a firm look.

She shrugged. "Charming. From the way you talked, I thought it would be…I dunno, amazing or something. It's just some scruffy little town without a Starbucks." Her dark eyes narrowed and she almost smiled.

"Brat," Maggie said, allowing a quick grin of her own to distract her from the panic. "It's not about the place itself, it's the people in it."

Ava sighed, the thought of Charming's 'people' bringing her back to the present and the fact that she did not want to see her father.

"Come on, kiddo," Maggie climbed out of the truck and slammed her door. "Time to go see Dad."

**-O-**

Gemma was digging through her bag for her Newports and Zippo when the elevator dinged down at the end of the hall. Countless nurses, doctors and other ICU visitors had come and gone through the stainless sliding doors that afternoon, so it was hard to believe that this time it was actually Maggie. Still, she looked up out of habit.

Her eyes locked and widened at the sight of the woman and teenager stepping out of the elevator. Maggie was every inch the adult these days, no longer a kid. Her features still had that well-defined, strong cast to them. Her dark blonde hair hung in wavy curtains down her back. She wore jeans, those ridiculous, chunky-ass biker boots underneath, and a cable-knit sweater that showed off the figure she was still blessed with at thirty six.

Gemma stood, feeling her hands quake a bit. After all the shit that had gone down – everything from Donna to her rape – something good was coming down the hall straight at her. And the kid, Jesus, Ava was _huge_. She had to be at least 5'4", lanky but starting to sport swells in the right places. She was half-way between little girl and young woman, and she twisted her long dark ponytail as if she was well aware of the awkward stage of her development.

When they hit the waiting room threshold, Maggie lost it. She put a hand up to dash at her eyes. "Oh, Gem-,"

Gemma met her halfway and caught her little cousin up in a fierce hug. "It's okay, sweetie," she said, rubbing the other woman's back. "He's alive and he's in good hands. It's okay."

_Finally _Gemma thought. It had taken a damn near tragedy, but her little girl was back. Home. Things had to get better after this. Maggie had to have brought something positive with her.

**TBC**


	3. Reunion

**AN: I think before I go any further I should add a disclaimer about the Irish-bashing I'm about to do with this story. Let it be known that I do NOT harbor any ill will or prejudice towards actual Irishmen. Every single one of my ancestors can be traced back to the British Isles and I'm at least a quarter Irish, so no hard feelings. Anything negative mentioned in this fic only relates to Cameron, Eddie, Jimmy, Fiona…any of those bastards who cause the club grief. Otherwise I'm all good with the Irish!**

**Chapter 3: Reunion**

Jax hit the sliding doors of the ER and they came apart with a hiss of decompressed air. He was in full pissed-off strut, each stride taking him further than the last as he crossed the white and sea-foam tile of the waiting area toward the elevators. Two nurses with clipboards were waiting and gave him wary looks as he mashed on the already lit UP button. When the doors dinged open, neither one of them climbed into the car with him. That was fine by Jax, he was damn near mad enough to throttle someone and wasn't in the mood to keep up his nice to women bit.

As the elevator rattled up to the third floor and the ICU, he had a chance to really dissect his anger. He was pissed that Weston's house had been a bust, pissed that he'd had to ditch his best friend, pissed that he was relying on Hale, and now pissed that his cousin had come back to town without an escort and right after Edmond and Cameron had hinted that Jimmy O was coming stateside. The entire situation sucked big ones.

A call to Tara had informed him that Chibs was still in recovery and teetering on the edge of needing to go back into surgery. But he knew where all his womenfolk would be; waiting in the ICU for him to be wheeled down. He was damn sure going to chew out his mom for pulling this sneaky, underhanded Maggie stunt. Just as soon as he saw her…

The elevator fed directly into the short hall beyond the waiting room and all that anger turned into something else when Jax spotted the three females standing in a loose huddle. Gemma glanced up and caught his eye, smiled thinly. He could tell from behind which one was his cousin. All that wavy, dark blonde hair. Five feet five inches of denim and cotton, boot wearing, loose-lipped, would-be sister.

Maggie turned and her face was both recognized and changed to him. It had been fourteen years with only a few meetings in between. But those wide lips were still covered with apricot gloss, deep-set, hazel eyes glittering with a sheen of unshed tears. Her smile was a mix of delighted and heartbroken, and Jax couldn't remember why the hell he'd come charging up here so mad.

"Mags -," he couldn't finish and she stepped forward. They embraced tightly, her hands clapping hard against the reaper on his back and holding on for dear life.

"Hey, bubba," she choked out, sounding as if not crying was the hardest thing in the world. She sniffed. "Missed you, kid."

Jax held his cousin tight, arms pressing her into his chest. He turned his head into her hair and closed his eyes. He felt seventeen again.

Too soon, the hug ended and Maggie pushed back. The reality that she was here to see Chibs because he'd been blasted to hell was a sobering thought. It brought the anger back.

"What the fuck, Maggie?" he said softly.

"Jackson -," Gemma started.

He gave his mother a glare. "No." He turned his attention back to his cousin. "You know the kinda spot this puts us in, Maggie? We have so much shit going on right now…"

Maggie shifted sideways and Jax caught sight of the long-legged, dark haired girl standing beside her. His eyes popped open like he'd been punched in the gut. "Is that Ava? Are you kidding me? Christ, Mags…Jesus."

"They needed to come," Gemma said firmly. She raised her brows, shooting her son a murderous look that said everything her words had left out. Chibs could very well die, and Maggie wouldn't be able to live with herself if she hadn't been there.

Jax sighed and dragged his hands back through his hair. Today was just not the day for another bomb. It just wasn't.

**-O-**

Tara came around the corner to make another sweep through the ICU and found it considerably more occupied than it had been moments before.

Gemma, Jax…Jesus, there was something familiar yet so far away about the woman standing with them. And even if she'd never been told, she could have picked the girl out of a lineup as Chibs' daughter.

"Hey," she said as she joined the foursome. "I just talked to his doctor and I've got good news."

Tara looked directly into the blonde woman's eyes and she was transported back in time. She'd never spent an abundance of time with Jax and Gemma's cousin, but she'd been much like the Queen herself. Calm, confident, bored with everything and very sure of her own place in the MC world. Tara remembered with aching clarity the night she, Jax and Chibs had gone to her Main Street apartment for dinner. The image of Maggie crumpled and broken on her kitchen floor was a scene that disturbed Tara not just as a person, but as a doctor as well. If not for Chibs, the woman would have died that night.

Maggie's face, a little older, but not largely changed, seemed to come to life with a start of recognition. "It's not…I mean…wow….Tara? Little Tara?"

Tara smiled stiffly. It didn't matter how old she was, she was always going to be _Little Tara _ to everyone in Charming. "Yeah. It's me. Nice to see you, Maggie, though I wish it were under better circumstances." She extended a hand for her to shake.

Maggie gave her a quick hug instead. "Doctor, huh? Wow, Jax, paydirt, dude," she said with a half-hearted punch to her cousin's arm.

Everyone else shifted a little awkwardly. Maggie's eyes were red-rimmed and so full of tears that her attempt at a joke was just pathetic. She sobered and dabbed at her lashes as if she knew it. "So, good news?"

"Right," Tara nodded, slipping into doctor mode. "It's been several hours and so far they haven't had to go in to alleviate the pressure from the bleed. Doc thinks he's stable and wants to go ahead and move him to a room."

Gemma, Jax and Maggie exhaled deeply, relief plain on their faces. The teenager, Chibs' daughter, kept her arms folded and stared at the tile floor. Tara figured the situation must be hard for the girl; coming to mourn a father she hadn't even really known.

"Can we see him?" Maggie asked, voice catching.

"Soon."

**-O-**

Maggie prepared herself mentally as best she could. Gemma told her that Chibs had been running away from the minivan when it exploded and that he'd been turned in the air and landed on the back of his head. Tara repeated the events but threw in all the relevant medical jargon. Turns out, Tara had been there, at the clubhouse and had been the first to treat him. The thought of the nervous teenager of her memories suddenly being the go-to girl in a medical emergency shook Maggie from her sense of normalcy. Charming had changed since she left. A lot.

Maggie formed a mental image of what Chibs would look like post-explosion, squashed all her nerves and worries down at the very base of her gut and took several deep breaths before she stepped into the room. She knew he would look bad, probably worse than she had all those years ago when she'd been in this very same ICU.

She took Ava's reluctant hand in her own and stared at the closed door of the room he'd been wheeled into.

"He's not conscious and won't be for quite a while. Days even," Tara said in a calm, professional voice. "He's going to look rough, Maggie, I won't lie. But try to remember that he's stable and the chances of him backsliding are _very _slim."

Maggie nodded, added her other hand to the one that held her daughter's, and took what felt like the hundredth deep breath of the afternoon. A hand squeezed her shoulder: Gemma. Tara opened the door, pushed in inward, then stepped aside.

Maggie crossed the threshold and all the prep she'd done in her head left her in a cold rush. She saw Chibs in her mind's eye; fourteen years ago when he'd first come into her office, when he'd first kissed her, when Ava had been born and he'd had that awed, quiet smile that only came from parenthood. She saw her tough as nails, loud mouthed, not-afraid-of-anything Scotsman in all his past glory and the contrast with the man laying on the bed, his head swathed in bandages, nearly made her gag. He didn't look alive.

She'd seen him just months ago at Estelle's Diner on the edge of town. He'd been older, scruffier, going gray at the temples and not the hard-bodied prize fighter she'd first fell in love with. But it had still been her Chibs. And he'd been so…_alive_.

Maggie didn't realize she'd moved until she was staring down at him. His eyes were closed. Oxygen tubes were carefully placed in his nostrils. His breathing was so shallow she couldn't even see his chest rise under his hospital gown. And he was pale, so pale…

A strangled sound pierced the quiet of the room and Maggie started, thinking it had been Chibs. But something trembled in her right hand and she turned. Ava had her free hand over her mouth, her own face suddenly pale also. Her small, pointed nose that was a damn near replica of her father's flared as she inhaled a series of ragged, sick breaths.

"Baby…" Maggie's voice broke as she lifted an arm, wanting to pull her girl into her arms and knowing the proud, I'm-all-grown-up teenager in Ava would prevent it. But Ava let out another of those sounds and dove into her mother's offered embrace. She buried her face in the crook of Maggie's neck. She was crying. Sobbing. After the resisting and fighting and pouting, the reality of it all had come slamming into her and it had been too much to handle.

"Shh, it's okay," Maggie soothed as her own tears fell. God, she prayed she was right.

**-O-**

The fifteen minute rule was so fucking bogus. Maggie and Ava had been allowed in twice, but only for the specified intervals. Gemma had been there all night and she and Tara had left. They needed showers, non-hospital food, and a general reprieve from the scene of so much death and devastation. Maggie had shot her cousin a series of _what the hell _looks over her sudden chumminess with the doctor, but Gemma had just shrugged. She would fill her in later. Then Jax had gone too and now it was just Maggie and Ava, slumped in ICU waiting room chairs, waiting for their next fifteen minute window.

The thirteen-year-old had her knees curled up under her chin, Converse All-Stars propped on the edge of the vinyl padded seat, her porcelain face looking like it belonged on a much younger girl all of a sudden. She hadn't said anything for a long time, so it surprised Maggie when she finally spoke.

"They…Gemma and Jax…they're your cousins, right?"

"Your cousins too," Maggie said around a stifled yawn. "I know you haven't seen them in a while, but they were both there when you were born."

Ava's brows quirked.

"Jax and your dad are really close."

"Jax is in the Charming charter of the Sons?"

"He's the VP."

Ava nodded, impressed. She had always been one of those very jaded, non-frilly children; something Maggie blamed herself for. She'd been a young mother and didn't filter music or TV from her kid. Plus an absentee father and a constant biker presence had turned her into a very old young person, not some mall rat with dyed hair and a fake Prada bag. Not many things made Ava sit up and pay attention, but the Sons of Anarchy had always been a source of pride, wonder and aspiration for her. And here Maggie thought life in Seattle would take them away from MC stuff. She hadn't seen her daughter so much as take a second look at the scrawny, awkward boys her own age. Nope, the girl had a thing for leather and wallet chains. Like mother like daughter. Wonderful.

"Is he…is he gonna be okay?" Ava asked quietly.

Maggie offered a tired smile. "I sure as hell hope so."

Ava nodded and tilted her head sideways, taking the weight of her head off her neck. She'd been so hopped on defiance the entire trip, but now she had to be exhausted. She blinked a few times and stifled a yawn.

Maggie checked her watch. Five more minutes to go until the nurses let them in again. It didn't matter that Chibs was out cold or that seeing him like that gave her a case of the full body shakes, she was going to take advantage of every opportunity.

Ava bolted suddenly upright in her chair, sneakers slapping to the tile.

"What?" Maggie asked, turning to look over her shoulder.

Three men in cuts and jeans were coming down the hall in v-formation; their leader front and center, the two others flanking him. A nurse flattened herself against the wall as they passed her like they might run her over.

Maggie felt her knees unhinge and realized she was standing. The same nearly desperate feeling she'd had when she'd caught sight of Jax and Gem took hold of her now. The lights glinted off Hap's bald head and his face was stone, clearly pissed that he hadn't been told about her little trip. He'd probably gotten a good ass-chewing too. But Maggie had seen Happy a few weeks ago. No, it was the other two men who had her full attention.

Clay didn't even pause as he stepped into the waiting room, just kept walking until he ran smack into her and his arms wrapped around her. Maggie felt that horrible, strangled feeling of having way too much emotion and not being able to do a damn thing about it. She returned her cousin-in-law's hug.

The SAMCRO President pulled back quickly, but kept his palms on her shoulders since she seemed so wobbly. "How you holdin' up, sweetheart?"

"You know…" she rolled her eyes when she felt yet another tear slip out over her lower lid. "You guys just couldn't keep me away."

Clay released her and frowned. "Yeah, about that, you do know you're shit-deep in trouble right now, don't you? You just broke every damn security code we got, Mags."

But his sternness couldn't shake the overriding joy at being reunited with yet another member of her Charming family.

"Koz called me fifteen goddamn times," Happy said roughly. "Whole Tacoma charter's about to shit a brick 'cause you slipped out under their noses."

"I know, I know…" Maggie said, trailing off as she glanced to Clay's right. Making up the other half of the President's matching set of mean-ass motherfucker book ends, Tig had his thumbs hooked behind his belt buckle like always, his shades on even inside the building. He had less hair, but it was still dark as soot and curly as hell. Same harsh planes and angles to his face. Same assortment of gold rings on his fingers.

Maggie had spent the better part of four years hating the Sgt at Arms for breaking her eighteen-year-old heart, but her last six months in Charming had seen a peace between them. And after fourteen years, she couldn't remember the heartache, just the laughter. And for some reason, she really, really wanted to hug him.

She side-stepped Clay and wrapped her arms around Tig's neck, not caring if he didn't return the gesture. "Hey, Tigger," was all she could manage.

To her surprise, she felt his arms against her back. "Hey, dollface."

When she pulled away, Maggie did a quick scan of his face, searching for the lines and wear that time had brought to all the rest of them, and was instead struck by a harsh, but fleeting sense that something was very wrong with Tig. He looked…empty. Just a shell. Even behind the lenses of his shades, she somehow knew his blue eyes were haunted. He put a hand on her belly and pushed her back, further distancing them, and she shook the thought away. Grief was doing funny things to her perception.

Turning around, she found Ava looking at her expectantly, shooting a warm but quick glance in Hap's direction every few seconds. Whether by intent or subconscious, she'd scooted closer to the Nomad and could have touched him if she'd flicked her fingers.

"Ava," Maggie began. "This is Clay, Gemma's hubby, and Tig. He's the resident Koz around here."

Tig made a face at the comparison, but Ava nodded. She instantly knew what these guys were all about.

Clay scrounged up a smile. "Damn, I don't think I've seen you since you were football size," he said, holding his hands apart to indicate the length of an infant.

Ava shuffled her feet at the comment and shot another look at Happy.

"You guys come to check on our boy?" Maggie asked.

"And see my favorite little cousin," Clay said, knocking her lightly on the shoulder. "We've got something going on today, but I'll see about getting a detail on you."

"Clay-,"

"Hey, our _friends _from across the pond know you're here, the shit's gonna jump off. That means your ass is under twenty-four-hour watch. I already got one goddamn Telford in a hospital bed."

She sighed and nodded.

"Don't leave the hospital alone, alright?"

"Like I'd leave it anyway."

He grunted, but couldn't hold back a half smile. "Anybody from the end of the rainbow shows up, you call somebody, got it?" he said with a meaningful look.

Maggie nodded and put an arm around her daughter's shoulders, pulling her closer at mention of the Irish.

The Cali Sons turned and headed toward the elevator, Tig shooting a nameless, lingering look at them before following his boss.

"Oh, Mags?" Clay called over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Good to have you back."

**-O-**

Happy lingered after the others, but Maggie could tell that he had a fire lit under his ass to get gone too. He'd been elected ambassador though.

He recounted the ins and outs of the explosion and assured her that retaliation was at the top of their to-do list.

Maggie sighed and propped her hip against the wall beside the elevator. She made an absent observation that Ava was staring at the bald biker like he was a magnet and her eyes were lead. "Car bomb makes me think Irish, Hap," she said in a hushed voice. "We all know how much those assholes love Chibs."

He shook his head, obsidian eyes darker than usual. "Not this time. Club's had problems with some new shithead in town."

She arched her brows.

Happy did another quick scan for eavesdroppers and leaned forward. "White supremacist backed by AB muscle," he said. "Real big-headed sonovabitch."

"Jesus, Hap…you guys can't stay on anyone's good side?"

He shrugged. "We didn't cause this, just white hate gone crazy."

"So no Irish threat?"

He shifted around, glancing at his boots like he knew something he couldn't tell her. "Just be careful, Mags. Anything don't smell right around here, you call. I mean that."

She sighed again and nodded. "Roger that."

Hap pushed away from the wall and headed toward the elevator, knocking Ava lightly on the shoulder as he passed. "Hang tight, kiddo," he told her and she nodded.

Maggie waited until the elevator had closed over his very serious face before turning to her daughter. Ava had been told the short and edited version as to why they couldn't live with her father. But Maggie suspected it hadn't ever served any real meaning for her. For Ava, her father was a bum who couldn't keep his act together and stay with her mother. Now though, Ava's eyes were wide.

"Mom? Are we…I mean, I know you're not supposed to be in Charming….are we gonna get hurt?" her voice rose at the end. "Like Dad got hurt?"

"No, baby," Maggie slid an arm around her shoulders. "We won't get hurt."

But truthfully, Maggie didn't have a fucking clue if any of them could survive whatever had descended over Charming. Something was coming…she could feel it.

**TBC**


	4. Personal Effects

**AN: I'm back! I've missed Maggie and Chibs, glad to be writing them again, even if I do feel a little rusty. **

**Chapter 4: Personal Effects**

The soft beeps of all the monitors and machines provided the soundtrack for Ava's sitting and Maggie's thinking. They sat against the wall beneath the window, an arm's length away from Chibs' bed. His chest rose slowly under the blankets, breath sounding strained as it passed through his lips. Ava stared at him, zoned out, chewing at already ragged fingernails. This was the first time anyone in her family had been seriously hurt. It had shaken her up good and hard, even if she didn't want to admit to it.

Maggie glanced down at the oversized brown bag at her feet and toed it lightly, the paper crackling. The nurse had brought it to her ten minutes before with a sad smile and Maggie hadn't been able to open it yet.

"What's in the bag?" Ava asked, startling her mother.

Maggie regarded her and decided that she too needed a distraction. "Your dad's…personal effects," she said softly. "Everything he had on when they brought him in."

Ava looked down at the bag expectantly, curious. Maggie stared at it and felt a superstitious fear. The last time she'd opened one of these things, the FD had been forced to use the Jaws of Life to wrench her high school sweetheart's dead body from his Trans Am. They'd given her the silver cross he'd always worn. The one she'd given to Chibs. The one that was now inside another brown paper bag. It was like the damn thing was a curse or something.

Maggie picked up the bag and settled it in her lap with another flurry of crinkling and rustling. She needed to open it – the club would need to hold onto his cut until he was well enough to wear it again. The actual leather belonged to Chibs, but the patches were SAMCRO property and had to be in club possession if they weren't on his back.

She unfolded the top of the bag and opened it slowly, almost with a wince. It was beyond wrong that he was hurt and unconscious, lying asleep just feet away while she sorted through his stuff.

The cut was on top and she unfolded it, moving the bag back to the floor so she could drape the worn leather across her knees. She felt a smile creep across her lips as she traced the edges of the top rocker. She kept moving her fingers, tracing over rubbed places along the seams, taking note of ghostly water tracks where rain had rolled down his back. Not one of the guys had a cut identical to his brothers'; they were all different. Chibs' had no collar and a zipper instead of snaps like Jax's. She flipped it over and rested a palm over his Sons of Anarchy patch. He was the only one in the Charming charter to sport one of those.

"Here," Maggie handed it to her daughter so she could dig into the bag again.

Ava accepted the cut with slow, hesitant hands. She folded it in half and set it on her lap. She didn't hug or snuggle up to it.

The rest of Maggie's search turned up the usual suspects; black jeans, black shirt, wifebeater, his belt with the big buckle. And then she found what she'd really been looking for. The big silver cross felt cold and heavy in her palm and sent chills racing up her arm.

"He's always worn that," Ava said. "I can remember from when I was a little girl."

Maggie smiled sadly. "I gave it to him, right before I left town."

At the mention of leaving town, Ava sighed. "Mom, how long _are_ we staying? I mean…what if he doesn't wake up?"

"He's waking up," Maggie was firm. She pegged the girl with a tight look. "What, a few hours ago you're crying and now you're all better? You don't care?"

"Mom…"

"No. I know you wanted to go to school and spend time with your friends, but family trumps everything else. We need to be here for him."

Ava scowled, cheeks flushing with anger. "Why? He's never there for us."

Maggie didn't have the energy to argue. It wasn't easy, but she knew the reasons for their family's separation were valid. But Ava didn't understand, and might never because Maggie had no intention of ever frightening her daughter with tales of the Irish.

She glanced back to Chibs and prayed for his eyes to open. She had suffered through her heart attack, two surgeries, pregnancy and single motherhood…but she didn't think she could take him dying. The doctors said the bleed was under control, but he wasn't on the critical list for shits and giggles. He could backslide at any moment. And his daughter didn't care. And SAMCRO was on the warpath. _Welcome home, Mags._

The door eased open and a nurse poked her head through. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but visiting hours are over and…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Maggie sighed. She dropped the necklace back into the paper bag and left it on her chair after she stood. Ava handed her his cut and she draped it over one arm.

Maggie paused before leaving and brushed a kiss to one of Chibs' scarred cheeks. "I'll be back in the morning," she promised.

Gemma was waiting out by the nurses' station. She had her arms folded and was staring at the wall. It was a Gemma Maggie had never seen before; one withdrawn and reflective, her fingers twitching almost nervously. Maggie recalled Tig's earlier oddness and frowned. What the hell was going on with everyone?

Gemma noticed their approach and worked up a more normal expression. "Come on, girls, let's get out of here."

***

Gemma hadn't been kidding when she said that she and Clay had upgraded since Maggie had been in Charming. The new, tan stucco masterpiece put their former brick ranch to shame. The décor was sleek southwestern done up with lots of blacks and browns.

Maggie was slumped back in the black leather sectional, stocking feet propped on the coffee table, a mug of decaf warming her hands. Chibs' cut lay on the seat beside her, ready for Jax to pick it up later and return it to the clubhouse. Gemma was in the rocking chair, looking exhausted but tense, unwilling to just relax and plop on the sofa. And Ava was being a teenager…already locked away up in the guest room.

Maggie took a sip of her coffee and let its warmth course through her. Here; finally warm, comfortable and safe, she felt all the fatigue and burnt out adrenaline with every blink of her scratchy eyes. She watched her cousin and _knew _all the tightness in her arms wasn't just because of what had happened to Chibs.

Gemma uncrossed and then crossed her legs again, shifting in the chair. She winced.

"Gem, you alright?" Maggie couldn't help but finally ask. "You look…sore."

Gemma shook her head. "Naw. I'm just worried is all." But she kept moving her weight from one seatbone to the next. It reminded Maggie of the mornings after one of Chibs' infrequent visits. She could hardly sit down after multiple rounds of desperate, I-missed-the-hell-outta-you sex.

She grinned. "Clay get a little overeager?"

Gemma frowned. "What?" She shook her head. "No," her frown gave way to a frustrated sigh. "Definitely not."

Not getting a straight answer, Maggie decided to change the subject. "I didn't expect to see Tara back in town."

Gemma nodded. "Been back a few months."

"What about Wendy and the baby?" Gemma had kept in touch through _detailed _emails.

"Junkie's in a sober living house and Abel's with Jax and Tara. I hired Neeta, you remember Smokey's sister?...she's been watching him during the day for us."

Maggie shook her head. "Man, Jax and Tara back together. You okay with all this?"

"Like I have a choice. Besides," she shrugged. "The doc's been there for the club, helped us out. And I can't fight Jax on it anymore."

That didn't sound like Gemma at all.

"Gem…what's going on around here? Things don't feel right."

Gemma's returning stare was hard edged. And guarded. When she finally spoke, it felt as if she chose her words carefully. Like she was deciding what she should and shouldn't tell Maggie. The thought stung. "It's been a rough few months. Donna…"

Maggie had been shocked and saddened to hear about Opie's wife. She hadn't seen her since she was a teenager, but gangster retaliation against Old Ladies was unfair and devastating. She'd sent a huge wreath of flowers to the service.

"…almost losing the baby," Gemma went on. She recounted the stories of the ATF problem and Luann's studio going under. The club was her partner in the porno business now, things with the Irish were on thin ice, and to make matters worse, a new AB faction, LOAN, had set up shop, literally, on Main Street. "They're bad news, Mags," Gemma said with flashing eyes. She looked spooked. "They're trying to shut us down, don't like the under the table business we've got going on. What happened to Chibs, that was them."

Maggie frowned. "That's what Hap said at the hospital."

"_Do not _go near the cigar shop across from Floyd's."

"I've been out of town, nobody knows who I am."

Gemma shook her head emphatically and leaned forward in the chair, wincing again. "They _knew _stuff Maggie. The ringleader and a couple of his guys showed up at the clubhouse one night. Knew Clay, knew Tig. The top dog's are Ethan Zobelle and he's got this sick-ass right hand, A.J. Weston. Promise me you'll stay away from the shop Maggie."

"Yeah." Maggie felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Gemma was damn near freaking out about this, reaffirming her suspicions that things weren't right in Charming. "How'd they get to Chibs?"

"Rigged a bomb to the starter on a minivan and called it in as a tow." Gemma shuddered and rubbed absently at her throat as if it pained her. "Jesus…I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"What? More crazy Nazi assholes in this town? I don't think any of us meant for that to happen."

"I know, I just…nothing." Gemma stood and came to sit on the sectional, sighing when she finally sank down into its plush depths.

Maggie couldn't help it this time. She had to ask. Something was terribly off with her cousin. "You okay, Gem? You seem -,"

"Just tired, baby," she offered a smile and laid a comforting hand on Maggie's knee.

Maggie opened her mouth to protest and was cut off by the ringing of the telephone. Gemma went to answer it and Maggie settled back against the pillows. She sipped her coffee and let her gaze wander across the room. It felt wrong to be here while Chibs lay bandaged and unconscious at the hospital. She had wanted to sleep in the waiting room, but Ava would never have gone for that.

A moment later Gemma reappeared in the doorway, face pinched. "That was Clay calling…from county lock-up."

***

Morning arrived with the clank of chains and raucous calls of the other prisoners as SAMCRO was marched down the hall of the SJCCF. Gemma had been unable to get to Rosen through the night so they'd all been booked and sent on their merry way to County. Pending trial outcome, they'd most likely all end up in Stockton with Otto. Not letting that happen was just one item on Jax's to-do list at the moment.

As soon as the cuffs had come off and the guard had rattled the door shut, the VP scanned the faces of his brothers. "I need somebody to use his phone call and do me a favor." He glanced at Happy who already seemed to be reading his mind.

"Detail on Maggie and the kid?"

Jax nodded.

"Maggie?" Juice pondered aloud.

"Who do you want me to call?" Hap asked.

***

Thank God for Oxy. And ice. And recliners with extendable footrests. Oh, and endless _Fresh Prince _reruns at seven in the morning. Will Smith was a hell of a lot funnier when drugs were involved.

Kip was thoroughly enjoying his post-operation, light-headed, slightly hallucinogenic state. If he closed one eye, the patterns on the ceiling seemed to move. How cool…

He shifted around and winced. Damn, his balls hurt. _Balls _because he had two again. One real and one…not so real. As soon as the swelling went down, he was going to be the happiest fucking guy on earth. But right now, he was just going to hold an ice pack over his nuts and watch bad TV.

His cell fired up loud and incessant on the armrest and he fumbled for it, nearly dropping it. He squinted at the screen and didn't recognize the number. "Yeah?"

"Prospect," he recognized Happy's rough voice. "Need a favor."

***

"Ava! You ready?" Maggie called up the stairs.

A grumbled response that was neither a yes nor a no floated back down. Maggie sighed. Gemma had taken off early so she and Tara could meet with the club's attorney about the boys and their predicament. At this point, every Son was either behind bars, or in a hospital bed. All except Opie, who'd managed to get away, but hadn't been heard or seen from. From what Maggie could gather, Ope hadn't been making the best decisions post-Donna. She couldn't blame him.

But, Opie being MIA meant that Maggie and the rest of the SAMCRO women were on their own for the time being. She didn't know how Gem would manage, but the Queen had been hell bent on getting bail posted. Maggie prayed for success. Not only did she have to worry about her old friends the Irish, but apparently the new Darby in town was more than swastika tats and pompous threats.

The doorbell chimed, echoing through the expansive house, and Maggie jumped. She had never been a fan of unexpected visitors. Without thinking, she picked up a hefty, resin candlestick from the side table in the foyer and crossed to the front door. She peeped through the sidelight as the doorbell sounded again. Whoever was out there was out of sight, so she rapped on the glass to catch his or her attention.

A very young, skinny kid with crazy strawberry blond hair leaned in front of the window and waved. He looked so harmless, goofy even, and Maggie felt her defensive instincts fading.

"Are you Maggie?" he was yelling to be heard through the sidelight. "Hap called me…wanted me to ride around with you today."

Just to be sure, she thought she'd test him a bit. "What's Hap's real name?" she called back.

He shrugged and his pale brows danced across his forehead. He looked stressed. "Um…aw, shit. I've got no idea."

Right answer. Maggie set down the candlestick, turned the thumb bolt and opened the door. She took quick stock of the kid, surprised to find him wearing a sweatshirt and flannel pajama bottoms that didn't fit over his boots right. He looked like a construction worker who'd just rolled out of bed. She scanned his face…he really was cute…and, she realized, familiar.

"You're the Prospect," she said, suddenly remembering him from one of the photos Chibs had given her. "Chibs' guy, the boxer."

He tilted his head, surprised. "Yeah…um, yeah. How'd you know?"

"I've seen pictures." She opened the door wide and waved him in. "So if you know my name, I'm assuming Happy told you more than that."

He shuffled rather than walked into the house, limping, swaying a bit. "I didn't know Chibs had an Old Lady," he said, making a face and pausing to lean up against the wall.

"You alright?"

He half grinned, half winced. "I, ah, had surgery yesterday morning."

"Damn, what are you doing here then?"

"It was out-patient, I'm alright." But his tone wasn't convincing. He grinned. "'Course, I wasn't really supposed to 'operate a vehicle' or anything."

"What kinda surgery was it?"

He blushed and looked twelve years old. "Did Chibs tell you what my name was? My club name?"

***

Fifteen minutes later, Maggie had decided that she wasn't calling anyone "Half-Sack". His very graphic, unabashed tale about his nick name and the fact that it was now shortened to just "Sack" had been TMI, especially in front of Ava. Her little brown eyes had grown large as saucers. Thank God he hadn't offered to show them…she had a feeling he'd done that before. She would settle for "Kip" and was touched that even in jail, her boys had sent their freshly re-nutted prospect to look after her. It was sweet.

He rode shotgun in the truck on the way to the hospital and leaned his head back, eyes closed. He had to be on enough antibiotics and prescription pain meds to keep an elephant woozy.

He staggered his way into the hospital and Maggie and Ava walked on either side of him, propping him if he started to lose his balance. Ava didn't want to go in and see Chibs, so Maggie left her in the waiting room with Kip.

"Do a good job and I'll put in a good word about your top rocker," she said, then aimed her finger at Ava. "Anything happens to her…I'll wring your skinny neck."

His grin flipped in a heartbeat. "No…it's good, I'm packin'. She'll be fine."

"Behave," she said firmly to her daughter.

Ava nodded noncommittally and selected a magazine from one of the end tables. As she headed down the hall, Maggie heard Ava suggest that she quiz Kip on his compatibility with various female personality types. She grinned. He reminded her of the gangly Tacoma prospect, Glen, who was now all grown up and patched in.

When Maggie reached the appropriate door, she paused to take a deep breath. She readied herself to see Chibs pale, asleep and weak. She eased through the door and crossed to the bed on her tip toes. He was still resting, still breathing in slow, painful stretches. But Maggie thought his color was a little better. Yes, he _did _look less pale –

His eyes opened.

They didn't snap, didn't come wide, but eased open as if the light hurt them. But they were open, and brown like she remembered.

Maggie gasped and quickly perched on the edge of the bed. "Chibs…God, baby, you're awake! Can you hear me? It's me, it's --,"

"Maggie," he said. His voice was croaky and broken, her name a slur, but he had recognized her. He knew her.

"Yeah," tears streamed down her cheeks even though she didn't actively cry. She didn't try to wipe them away. "Hi. Hi, baby. I'm so glad you're awake."

He tried to say something that she couldn't understand so she pulled his hand between both of hers and squeezed. "Don't talk if it hurts. Everything's alright. I'm here, Ava's out there with your prospect."

"'S…no'…safe," he finally managed to get out.

"No, it's fine. Club's got our back. We're all good."

***

Kip just couldn't get over the thought that Chibs had a _kid_. A _girl _kid. With long hair and little thirteen-year-old boobs and everything. She glanced up at him from the _Teen People _she was looking through and asked a question he was too tuned out to actually hear. But when she grinned, dimples popped into existence on her cheeks and her little pointed nose crinkled up and she looked exactly like her dad. Only cute and girly and not all scar-faced Scottish cage fighter.

"Dude," she said when he didn't answer.

"Oh, what?"

She rolled her eyes and went back to the magazine. "Never mind."

Kip scooted down lower in his chair. He was so lightheaded he could hardly see straight. Damn Oxy. And thanks to walking around and driving, his sac throbbed painfully in time with his pulse. Maybe he could just rest his eyes a moment.

He registered a woman through the windows of the waiting room doors. She had dark skin and kinky hair, wore cream-colored, nice clothes. Not a threat. The kid would be okay. He closed his eyes.

***

It had been a long, long time since Fiona had set foot in Charming. It had been six months or so after Filip had moved stateside. He'd been cold then, seemingly indifferent to her presence. His questions about Kerriann had been rote and automatic. He hadn't inquired as to his estranged wife's well being at all.

In truth, Fiona hadn't really cared about his well being either. Now she chuckled every time she thought about the fact that a _car bomb _had brought down a former IRA foot soldier. No, she didn't come bearing chocolates, flowers, or get well wishes. She had come to lay eyes on him for herself, put out feelers for Jimmy, determine just how weak Filip was and how much arm-twisting the Cause could do at this point.

She followed the signs and arrows up to the ICU waiting room doors and picked up the nurses' station phone. She listened for the clicks and whirs that would connect her to the station, but the line remained silent. Frowning, she tried one of the double doors and found it open. A nurse met her halfway across the waiting room floor.

"Sorry, phone's busted and we don't see enough traffic up here to get maintenance after it," she explained. She had a clipboard in her hands and consulted it absently. "Who're you here to see?"

Fiona made a vague observation that there were two kids against the wall in hard plastic chairs. The boy was snoozing, the girl paging through a magazine. "I'm here for Filip Telford," Fiona said quietly.

The nurse frowned down at her notes. "His wife's in with him now."

Fiona stiffened. "That's impossible…_I'm_ his wife."

***

Chibs didn't stay awake long. Maggie pressed a kiss to the back of his hand and retreated to her plastic chair against the wall to set up vigil. She didn't have a book or a magazine, but didn't dare turn on the TV for fear of disturbing him. Being bored was a small price to pay though. She was ecstatic that he'd been conscious, if only for a little bit. The nurse had come in to administer more pain meds and Maggie had asked her to page Tara…or _Dr. Knowles. _Maggie just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that little Tara was all grown up and practicing medicine. Sure she was a pedes surgeon and not on Chibs' case, but Maggie wanted to share the good news.

The room door opened and Maggie glanced up, cheeks flushing pink with excitement. "Hey, Tar --,"

But it was a nurse who leaned in, hand braced on the doorknob. "Ms. Lawson?"

"Yes?"

Another woman moved into view beside the nurse. She had skin the color of a Starbucks Frappuccino, dark eyes and a voluminous mane of tightly wound black curls. Maggie wanted to classify her as African American, but couldn't. Something about the line of her nose and the shape of her lips was off. She could have been a dark-skinned Greek, or Italian maybe. She stepped into the room uninvited and Maggie felt a little thrill go down her spine. Something was off. And not just the woman's outfit. Although, who walked around in slacks in this town?

"There seems to have been a bit of a mix-up," the nurse said, looking hesitant. "Ms. Lawson, you've been signing in as his wife."

"And you're not," the strange woman spoke up. Her accent was unmistakably Irish.

Maggie felt all the color drain out of her face. She hadn't been in town twenty four hours and she'd been found. Her situation couldn't get any worse. "Who are you?" she asked, kicking her chin up to the Irishwoman. Who did this bitch think she was?

The woman's lips quirked in a half smile that never touched her eyes. "I'm Filip's wife."

**TBC**


	5. Woman on Every Road

**AN: The title of this chapter is a line from "Electric Worry" by Clutch. Just thought I'd throw out that disclaimer. **

**Maybe at some point this story will become a little less talk and a lot more action…but for now, there's a lot of dialogue. And fear not, I really do loathe Fiona for everything she did to Chibs and this chap is by far not the last Mags/Fiona run-in. So don't be too disappointed yet. **

**Chapter 5: Woman on Every Road **

Maggie made it halfway down the hall before the glaze of tears was so thick she could no longer see through it. She didn't know or care where she was going, only knew she had to get the hell away from Chibs and his…his…_WIFE_...and couldn't be anywhere near Ava at the moment. She had the Prospect, and he couldn't be that incompetent, she'd be alright.

She looked through an open door and found an empty patient room. Maggie staggered inside, shut the door, and then leaned back against it. She was breathing like a freight train, her knees were shaking. She started to slide down the door and realized it was suddenly a thousand degrees under her sweater. She hiked the offensive garment up over her head, squealing when the zipper tangled in her hair. She wrenched it free and chucked the sweater across the room with a growl.

_His wife…his wife…his wife…CHIBS' FUCKING WIFE!!_

She had looked death in the eyes and spit at the selfish bastard, dealt with all the hell that came with being the mother of a thirteen-year-old, and had somehow maintained a long distance relationship all that time. A long distance relationship that was a lie. Because Chibs was married. Had been all along. Maggie had thought she could choke this down like the rest, but she couldn't. This was too much.

***

"How long's he been like that?" Gemma motioned toward Half-Sack.

Ava set down her magazine and regarded her companion with disinterest. "Since we came in. Mom said he was all drugged up because of his _special _surgery." The girl rolled her eyes, obviously put out that her mother thought she couldn't handle the truth about boys and blown-off nuts.

The Queen sighed. "And Clay calls this a protection detail…" she shook her head. "Your mom in with your dad?"

"Yep," Ava said, returning to the gossip mag. "She's been back there awhile."

Gemma frowned. If Ava was hers, she'd be tempted to knock a little respect for her Old Man into her. But she wasn't. "I'm gonna go check in," she told the girl. "Wake his ass up if you get spooked about something."

Ava nodded.

Gem checked in with the nurses and then headed down the short hall to Chibs' room. She decided to peek through the window before charging in, make sure Maggie wasn't all weepy and unprepared for company…

But Chibs was alone in his room. Gemma cracked the door and looked in just to be sure, but just reaffirmed the Maggie was not in the room.

"What the fuck?" she heard herself whisper as she retreated and headed back down to the waiting room. Maybe Mags was in the bathroom.

But after all the shit that had plagued them lately, Gemma no longer believed in coincidence.

"Your mom's not back there," she told Ava when she was within earshot.

The girl lowered her magazine and frowned. "She has to be. She hasn't come back out at all."

"And you're sure you would have noticed?"

Ava frowned. "Yeah."

Gemma gave her a look.

"Yes, ma'am."

The Queen gave Half-Sack a good thump in the shin with the toe of her high-heeled boot. He came awake with a start, arms jerking and eyes fluttering.

"Anyone been through here?" she asked before he was fully composed.

"Um…" he scrubbed a hand down his bristly chin. Batted his eyes back into focus. "I…maybe…"

Gemma leaned down so she was on eye level with the Prospect. "Pay attention, Sparky, 'cause this shit is important. Did anyone come through here?" she repeated slowly.

He nodded crookedly. "Um, yeah. A woman. Right before I rested my eyes -,"

"What'd she look like?"

"Um…" he squinted, seeing her in his mind's eye. "Tall. Lots of hair." He held his hands out to the side of his head to indicate just how much. "I mean, _lots _of hair. Sideshow Bob hair."

Gemma felt her flawed heart stutter. "What else?"

He shrugged. "She was pretty. Had this dark skin kinda."

Fiona. The boys had mentioned that Jimmy might be coming stateside, but Gemma had hoped that might not come to fruition. If Fiona had run into Maggie…

"Shit," she muttered. "Did she leave?"

"Who?"

"The woman, did she leave?"

"A few minutes ago," Ava spoke up. "I saw her walk out."

Gemma sighed and nodded. "You two wait here."

***

Maggie heard footsteps out in the hall and prayed they kept walking. But they stopped. And then the door opened and pushed her across the tile, boot heels catching and leaving rubber streaks behind. She was seconds from shrieking that whoever it was _get the hell out_, but Gemma's voice greeted her with:

"Jesus, Mags. Get up off the goddamn floor."

Maggie scrambled to her feet and staggered over to the bed, turning and planting her butt on it. She knew she looked awful; a crying, tear-soaked mess. Little dribbles of mascara had dripped down onto her white tank top. She ducked her head and dashed at her messy cheeks.

"Oh, baby," Gemma came to her and pulled her into a tight squeeze. "Oh, sweetheart…I'm so sorry." She moved side to side almost like Maggie was a baby she was rocking.

Maggie let the embrace comfort her a moment, then pushed back. She sucked in a deep breath and made a final sweep at her tears. "Wait…sorry about what? How do you know what happened?"

Gemma sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "I came to see how you were holding up and couldn't find you. The kids said _Fiona _had been here."

The way Gemma said the name, the dark anger in her eyes…wheels started spinning at maximum speed in Maggie's head. "Fiona? Gem, do you _know _her?"

"Mags – ,"

"Do you?!"

"Come on, let's sit down."

"I am sitting down! Gemma, it's a simple question, do you, or do you not know that _motherfucking bitch _who tossed me out of his room?"

Gemma sighed heavily and sat down beside Maggie, purse held loosely on her knees. "Yes," she said softly. "I know her."

"Is she…" Maggie sniffed again, struggling to get her composure back. "…is she his wife?"

It was silent for a beat. "Yes," Gem whispered. "She is."

"How – ,"

"They're not together, baby, not since before he came stateside. She's a wicked bitch and she just helped Jimmy use him."

"Jimmy? Who the fuck is Jimmy?"

"Do you remember," Maggie glanced over, "right before you were…attacked? That night the boys got in off the road and McKeevy showed up at the clubhouse?"

Maggie nodded automatically.

"There was a coup in the True IRA. That was why Chibs wanted out, why he came here. Jimmy O. took everything – wife, livelihood, daughter."

"_Daughter_?"

"Christ," Gemma sighed. "You might as well know all of it now."

***

Maggie stared at a chip in the tile floor while Gemma talked.

Chibs had been married for a time, a short time, but still…marriage was marriage. And there was a girl, _another _daughter. Kerianne lived in Ireland and had just turned sixteen. She had grown up calling this Jimmy guy her father and had literally no ties to California or Chibs. Though they had never divorced on paper, Chibs and Fiona were done. He'd washed his hands of her and given up hope that he'd ever truly know his daughter well before he had landed in Maggie's bed.

At least that was the picture Gemma painted. As far as Maggie was concerned, if Chibs didn't have anything left for Fiona, why had he never mentioned her?

"Chibs didn't ever push the divorce because he needed Jimmy to think he still gave a shit about Fiona," Gemma finished. "Any time Chibs didn't get with the program, Jimmy would threaten to hurt her or Kerianne. That's why it was so important that you stay gone. Hidden and safe."

"They couldn't use her as leverage if they thought he had someone new," Maggie said.

Gemma nodded.

"So," Maggie took a shaky breath. "I fought for my life, carried and raised a baby, and spent fourteen years in love with a man who's married."

Gemma frowned. "Maggie –,"

"You're telling me," Maggie went on, voice rising. "That I've been _the other woman _for fourteen goddamn years?!"

"Baby…"

"Guess he had fun coming to America! 'Ooh look, it's a little local bitch I can screw!' Why didn't you TELL ME!" she yelled. "I've been wasting my whole fucking life and nobody thought it might be nice for me to know he has a _wife_?"

"What's it matter? You were the one who told him to let loose and fuck every goddamn Crow Eater he could get his hands on."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"They don't mean anything! And he didn't hide it from me. This Fiona bitch has been married to him the whole time! He's married, why don't you get why this upsets me?" Another thought dawned. "Jesus…he fed me this bullshit story about some Scottish girl named Maggie…that was all a lie too, wasn't it?"

"No, that was legit…"

"Yeah right," Maggie barked. "Nobody has that much bad luck. He lied. He used that shit to get me in bed –,"

Gemma bolted up off the bed and put not-so-gentle hands on Maggie's shoulders. Her mouth was drawn in a tight line. "Get a goddamn grip, Maggie," she hissed. "Listen to yourself…this isn't you. You're tougher than this."

Maggie never had been able to stand up to her cousin when she got like this. Shame and hurt washed over her, threatened to pull her under. She folded in on herself and felt the tears start flowing again.

Gemma shook her gently. "No. No more crying."

Maggie nodded, closing her eyes and trying desperately to keep the sobs at bay. She covered one of Gemma's hands with her own and leaned her head against the link, praying to absorb some of the Queen's strength. She was so embarrassed by her outburst, but felt helpless to stop the onslaught of tremors that shook her body. She hurt for Chibs; for the loss of a family, for the abuses he'd suffered…but she hurt because of him too. Because he'd lied by omission, kept her hanging on to his every infrequent caress for so long. She'd forsaken potential suitors. She'd worked so hard to incorporate him into their family when he wasn't even free for the taking. Every choice, every heartache, every fleeting joyous moment in her life hinged around the few months she'd spent in the arms of a Scotsman when she was twenty two. To learn that all of that was folly…incomprehensible.

"I'm sorry, Gem," she whispered. "I don't want to react this way. It's just…God, I came wondering if he'd live. Now…Jesus, I don't even know who he is. Whether he ever gave a shit about me."

"Sweetheart…" Gemma turned her chin up with a gentle hand. Her own eyes were moist. "That man adores you. Always has."

Maggie sniffed and suppressed a hiccup. "I don't know if I can handle this. Wife…other kid. I don't think I can be there."

"Right now, you don't have a choice." She sighed, sounding tired. "All the shit going on…he needs you. Hell, _I _need you. Fiona will run back and tell the whole lot of those Irish assholes that you're here. You can't run, Mags. You won't get ten minutes outside Charming if you do. Just…sit tight for now."

Maggie recognized her tone. The boys in jail. Members blown up and attacked and harassed; Gemma was battening down the hatches.

"And," Gemma went on, "you tell Ava her father's a dog now, he can kiss her goodbye forever. You have to be strong for her, Maggie. For all three of you. You're the Lawson here…time to act like it."

Maggie dashed at her eyes one last time. "I'm an adult, time to make an adult decision, huh?" she dredged up the words Gemma had been schooling her with since she was a teenager.

"Absolutely, baby. Now come on, I gotta go see a guy about bail money."

***

Gemma left and Maggie spent another few minutes in the en suite bathroom to try and dab the mascara streaks off her face. When she was satisfied that she didn't look like a raccoon that had been scraped off the underside of a bus, she folded her sweater over her arms and went back to the waiting room.

Ava glanced up and her little brows arched up like her father's, making it all the more difficult for Maggie to keep her cool. The girl could tell something was off with her mother.

"You okay, Mom?" she asked as she stood.

Maggie pulled her into a hug and just held her for a moment, breathing in deep the smell of her shampoo and straightening cream. "I'm fine, baby," she lied with a final squeeze.

Ava didn't look convinced when they broke apart, but she didn't push the issue.

Maggie glanced down at a very asleep Kip and shook her head. "Poor little dumbass," she murmured. She shook his shoulder gently. "Rise and shine, kiddo," she said. "Time to get outta here."

"Wha…?" he slurred, wobbling back to consciousness.

Maggie and Ava shared a look, then they each grabbed one of the Prospect's arms and hefted him up out of the chair. He staggered and nearly went down, but they managed to stumble and strain their way down the hall to the elevator.

"Can you hit the button?" Maggie asked.

"Hold on…" Ava grunted as she stretched. "There."

The doors slid open with a _ding _and they helped Kip get inside.

"Can't you at least keep your eyes open?" Maggie said as she eased him backward so that he was propped up in the corner.

"Dizzy," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I'll say." Once she was sure the poor kid wasn't going to face-plant, she turned around to hit the button for the ground floor. The doors were almost shut when a hand darted between, forcing them back open. Maggie glanced up to see who was attached to the hand, and her stomach leapt up into her throat.

Fiona.

"You goin' down?" the Irishwoman asked with a shovel full of fake sweetness. She gave Maggie a smile that barely tweaked her lips, but left her eyes dark, cold, and untouched.

Maggie felt the panic building, wanted to shove the bitch down, wanted to hide Ava behind her. But making a scene in a hospital elevator was not her style.

Still, her eyes burned, her breath hitched. She wanted to cry and kick and scream. She imagined breaking that Greek nose with an upward thrust of her palm.

_You're tougher than this _Gemma's words echoed in her head.

The club was behind bars and Gemma's thoughts were only for getting them all bailed out in one piece. And throwing down with the IRA queen would only bring more shit raining down on them.

_Club first, club first, _Maggie chanted to herself. _Be smart, Maggie. Now's not the time for revenge. _She'd known that when she was twenty-two and had been jumped in her apartment. And she knew that now. No matter how much the situation with Chibs ate at her every thought, there was a bigger picture to consider. Her cousins, Clay, the rest of the men she had called family…no, she had to think of them too. There was no revenge possible.

"Yeah," she told Fiona, not recognizing the thickness in her own voice. She made a not so subtle grab for Ava and pulled the girl over to stand on the other side of her, against the wall, as the Irishwoman climbed aboard.

Fiona turned lazily to face the doors as they closed and Maggie watched her from the corner of her eye.

"Mom -," Ava started.

Maggie put her hand on the girl's head and shook her own. _Not now. _

Ava frowned and cast a curious look over at the stranger, one which Fiona returned.

"My, aren't you a pretty little girl."

Maggie stiffened and maneuvered herself between the two of them, blocking Ava from sight. Furious electricity crackled through her. She wished for Jax, Clay, Happy, Tig…anyone besides the drugged out Prospect who was slumped against the back wall of the elevator. She stared at the digital floor counter above the door. _Come on…come on…_

"That's lovely," Fiona said, and Maggie cast her a wary look.

She nodded. "You arm. It's beautiful."

Maggie glanced down at her exposed right forearm. She had removed her sweater during her fit, and now, in her tank top, her tattoo was plainly visible. Her Old Lady crow tat with the Scottish flag in its talons.

Her blood ran cold.

"Funny though," Fiona continued. "I didn't take you for a Scot."

Maggie slipped her arm around her daughter's shoulders, hiding the tat and effectively pulling Ava even closer against her side.

Finally, the elevator landed on the bottom floor and the doors parted.

"I'll be seein' you then," Fiona said casually as she stepped out. Maggie watched her stalk away with the calm, unhurried gait of a woman who was used to having people move out of her way. Almost like Gemma. The thought that she was comparing the two made her sick.

Maggie shuddered, with both anger and the tiniest hint of fear, and allowed the doors to close again. She wasn't taking her baby off the elevator until the Irish bitch was long gone.

"Mom," Ava's voice quavered. "Who was that?"

Maggie sighed. "Someone I don't _ever _want you near again, baby."

***

"Should we take his boots off?"

Gemma stood with hands on hips and lips pursed. "Nah," she said. "He'll be fine."

The poor Prospect had hit the mattress like a corpse, arms flopping up over his head, head lolling to the side. His mouth gapped open and he sucked in air noisily.

Maggie rolled her shoulders, glad to be rid of his dead weight. Since he had proved to be absolutely useless security, she had returned him to the clubhouse and she and Gemma had wrestled him down the hall to one of the empty dorm rooms.

"Poor baby," she said. "He's about the scrawniest prospect you guys have ever had."

Gemma twitched a grin. "He's tougher than he looks – when he ain't under the influence. He's a good kid. The boys like him."

Maggie nodded, only half listening as she surveyed the wood paneled walls and musty carpet of the room. It felt like a century since she'd been in the clubhouse. It didn't seem the same without the tramp of heavy boots and clink of beer bottles. She closed her eyes and could swear she heard Bobby strumming softly on his guitar. She registered Tig's high, cackled laughter and the deeper chuckles of his brothers. And then Chibs' deep, raucous laugh echoed inside her memory and she frowned, opening her eyes. Gemma had told her to be strong, but thinking about him caused her physical pain.

"Hey, you coming?" Gemma asked.

Maggie turned and found her cousin in the doorway. "Oh…yeah." She followed her out into the hall, shutting the door quietly. "Were you able to get a lock on bail money?" she asked as they made their way back down the hall.

Gemma sighed. "Not yet."

Maggie shook her head. She felt like she should have offered up something towards the effort, but knew Rosen had already told Gemma and Tara that their homes wouldn't be enough to get all the Sons out. Two of them at the most. And Gemma's house was nothing to sneeze at.

Ava was sitting at the bar, turned sideways on her stool and staring at the SAMCRO Wall of Shame. Her head tilted as she scanned all the mug shots. Maggie could tell when the girl spotted her father's picture because she abruptly spun away.

"You ready to get outta here?" Maggie asked.

Ava nodded.

"Outta here?" Gemma questioned. "Mags -,"

"I'm _not _running, Gem. We could use some fresh air though."

Ava was looking between them, confused. "Running?"

"Let's go," Maggie ignored her question and headed for the door, giving her cousin a reassuring look. "We'll be fine, just going to grab a late lunch."

"Be careful," Gemma was firm. "I mean it."

Maggie pulled her shades out of her hair and settled them on her nose as she stepped out into the parking lot. "_Be careful. _Shit never changes around here," she mumbled.

***

Jimmy was rapidly growing weary of this new, not-so-improved Fiona that had come back from the hospital. She was agitated, huffy, and pacing the end of their hotel bed. A fretful woman was not a sexy woman in his opinion.

"I'm telling you, it _was _the fucking flag, Jimmy. I saw it with my own two eyes!" she said. "Right here," she tapped the inside of her right forearm aggressively, indicating the location of the tattoo she claimed to have seen.

"Relax," he scoffed. "All of those lil' biker whores of theirs mark up their bodies. 'S nothin' new."

Fiona nearly growled with frustration. "Then how d'ya explain the girl? She looked _just like _Filip. Spittin' image."

Jimmy caught her wrist on her next pass and clamped down hard, rooting her in place. When he met her dark eyes, he found them wide and dancing all around, rolling inside her head like those of a spooked horse.

"Look at yourself, all riled up," he scolded. "If Filip has a woman we've overlooked, then we'll find her. But this isn't somethin' you should be worried about." He tightened his grip to emphasize his point.

"I know," she nodded, regaining some of her normal calm. "I just…I don't want your plans to be effected."

He pulled her down closer, compromising her balance so she stumbled and had to brace a hand on his shoulder for support. "Besides, luv, you know I'd never let another take your place with him."

Her smile was thin and trembled. "I know."

"And if there _is _another girl…the child will be taken care of."

Her smile became more genuine. "Promise?"

"Aye, luv. Promise."

**TBC**


	6. Fight Like a Girl

**AN: Okay, there really is action coming. I swear. In fact, I have a whole bunch planned for the next chap, which is part of the reason this is a relatively quiet chapter again. Next time, the boys are out of jail and well…you'll see. But I think this is an important look at Maggie's behavior up until this point and her actions to come. And, in case you couldn't tell, I'm a sucker for flashbacks.**

**Lemme know what y'all think!**

**Chapter 6: Fight Like a Girl**

_With style and grace,_

_Kick ass and take names._

-"Fight Like a Girl" by Bombshel

Maggie stared through the plate glass window out into Lumpy's parking lot and took mindless note that the late model Charger that had been circling the building for a while was still at it, slow and aimless. Weird.

She had been hankering for one of the famous cheeseburgers since they'd crossed the town border, but now could have been eating cardboard for all the taste it left in her mouth. Fiona's face felt branded behind her eyes, her dark, false smile taunting her.

_I'm Filip's wife _she mocked. _Which makes you, what? A whole bunch of nothing? You're just his tart. _

Maggie kept waiting for Gemma's words to take hold, but they didn't. Restraining herself in the elevator before had used up her last scrap of hardass. She was emotionally spent now, strung out on the bad after taste of love gone so, so wrong. She kicked herself mentally for falling for his "old Maggie" sob story. For thinking there had been something between them more than using up the time he had to waste.

But he'd never once uttered that he loved her. Not ever. And she guessed he didn't. Because he had a wife, and a daughter, and she was just a way to pass the time. What a sad day it was to think that maybe she would have been better off with Tig. She was convinced he'd had his way with at least one kind of farm animal, but there was no secret family. That man wasn't shy about his failures and didn't have any bridges left unburned.

If she'd never fallen for Chibs, her heart wouldn't be cleaved in two now.

"Hey, Mom?"

Then again, she wouldn't have her little girl either. She cleared her throat and glanced across the table at Ava. No, she couldn't say that it hadn't been worthwhile. She just wished it wasn't ending this way.

**February 1990**

_Crack!!_

Gemma's fist reared back again, prepped for a second assault, fresh blood spattered across her knuckles. Her opponent was on hands and knees, untangling long, skinny legs from the chair she'd taken down with her. The little brunette's nose was like a water spigot, crimson raining down onto the hardwood in thick, hot drops.

Maggie had no idea what the Crow Eater had done, but something had unleashed Gemma Teller's fury like that of a Greek Goddess. Maggie stood back against the bar, trying to scramble to her feet. Just three months into Charming life, she was fiercely loyal to her cousin Gemma, and all too ready to run to the rescue if the SAMCRO Queen should need reinforcements.

Two steps from the bar, a hand caught her upper arm. Luann's face was pale under her layers of makeup when she shook her head. "No, little girl, Gem's got this. Stay here with me."

Maggie let herself be towed back to a stool and parked it. When she glanced back at the action, Gemma was swearing under her breath and had a hand tangled up in the young Crow Eater's hair. The Queen took two steps towards the door, dragging her prey, earning a strangled yelp from the girl.

Maggie knew her mouth fell open in shock when Gemma leaned down and pinched the girl's nose ring between thumb and forefinger. The brunette's nose was already discolored and swelling from the blow, and now she shrieked at the tug on the little crystal stud.

Gemma's words were low, but rolled through the room as if she'd shouted. The single phrase echoed inside Maggie's head long after it was spoken.

The Queen's voice was clear and deadly. "Don't you _ever _go near him again." Then Gemma straightened, snatching her arm as if to crack a whip and taking the nose ring with her.

The girl screamed and curled up into a miserable heap on the floor. Blood ran over her hands and arms as she desperately patted at her wounds.

Gemma turned towards the group at the bar slowly, deliberately. She made a show of straightening her clothes and rearranging her hair. She strutted, rather than walked to the bar, and when she was beside Maggie, she leaned down and set the glittering nose bauble on the wood top. Gemma titled her head and looked up at her cousin through her lashes.

"That, sweetheart," she said firmly. "Is what we do to bitches who come after the wrong man."

**March 1990**

_Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom _Maggie chanted inside her head. She was so going to hurl, but she would prefer to do it into a toilet and not all over the floor in the main room of the SOA clubhouse. Against Gemma's admonitions, she had been accepting drinks from a cute blond guy that the others kept referring to as a "hang-around". He didn't have a cut and the Sons didn't seem to think twice about making him do grunt work without any sort of compensation. He couldn't even lay hands on the girls at the party.

But Maggie thought he had a nice smile. And he'd kept shoving glasses full of clear, nasty-tasting liquor at her all night. She had tossed them back and laughed and let him steal glimpses of her pink bra through not-so-accidental slips of her tank top. Gemma had, after all, told her she needed to get past her sadness with Jason. And maybe Blond Guy would be better between the sheets than he was at the bar.

But right now, her dinner and drinks were about to evacuate her system and she needed to get to the bathroom…fast.

She staggered down the back hall toward the general use bathroom, weaving back and forth, grabbing at door jambs and rough walls for purchase. One of her high-heeled sandals seemed to have come loose and her ankle slopped around inside the strap, only contributing to the balance issue.

She knew she'd reached her destination when she bumped head-first into the door. She started to giggle at the ridiculousness of her condition, but the bile working its way up her throat had her thinking better of that idea. Instead, she wrenched her way in without knocking and caught a blurry, swimming vision of a man's back, a pair of thin legs wrapped around his waist.

Then Maggie's shoe finally gave out and she started a slow-mo, _oh-no-I'm-falling _descent to the grimy tile. She brought her hands up, but somehow landed square on her face, crying out.

She registered some rustling and muttered curses above her, then a distasteful female voice said, "Are you fucking kidding me? Get her out of here, Tig!"

Tig…who was Tig again? Maggie was trying to both remember the face that was attached to that name and push herself up into a four-legged position when the woman who'd spoken yelped. Heels scuttled across the floor followed by more yelps and squeals. The bathroom door shut loudly and Maggie sighed with relief. Finally, she could toss her cookies in peace.

At least, she thought she could. Two big hands hooked under her arms and hefted her up to a stand. The room spun and she closed her eyes against the dizzy swirls. _Do not puke on this guy, do not puke on this guy!_

"Hey, um…" his voice wanted to be deep, it really did, but he had a bit of a nasal edge to the sound that kept him from booming out his words like John or Clay. "Look, Maggie, I'm sorry about that. That bitch, she doesn't know what's what, you know?"

He knew her name? Maggie opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and then leaned her head back so she could examine this Tig character.

She noticed his eyes first; blue and big and almost too pretty for a man with such a hard face. She squinted because the edges of her vision were fuzzy with alcohol, then realized his dark hair actually was that curly. Large nose. Strong jaw. Inebriated though she was, the image clicked into place. Tig was the big, mean guy who was always hanging out with Clay. He didn't say a lot, but when he did, the words were snapped. And then every once in a while he'd laugh and his face would crack up with a grin that seemed counter productive to the whole dark, menacing visage he'd cooked up. He was lethal though, no mistaking that. Staring up at him, feeling the strength in the hands that held her suspended off the floor, Maggie knew she was supposed to be frightened.

But the gin in her system had other ideas. It was the liquor that whispered to her, told her that this was the type of dangerous man she'd always been drawn to. This was no football jock or 'roided-up iron pumping monkey. This guy was the real deal. His status as Sgt at Arms ensured that he wasn't just mean on the outside, he was hardcore on the inside too, and that just screamed great sex in Maggie's opinion.

Suddenly, she didn't have to throw up anymore.

Tig set her on her feet and she wobbled, falling forward into the wall of his chest. His hands went to her shoulders to steady her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Maggie inhaled and sighed. He smelled like man; cigarettes and motor oil, sweat and road dirt. Boys her own age were just that, boys. But this…oh, man. Blond Guy at the bar was completely forgotten.

Tig chuckled. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Maggie hadn't realized it, but she had slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt and was now running her fingernails up the bare skin of his back. She was drawing random little patterns…she really loved the way male skin felt. Not as soft as hers, dusted with hair in places. She closed her eyes because keeping them open made her dizzy, and imagined moving her hands around to his front, unbuckling his belt and easing down his zipper.

"C'mon, Maggie," Tig groaned. His hands closed over her wrists and she opened her eyes. Oh…she actually _had _unhooked his pants.

One big hand hitched her chin up, thumb stroking along her jaw line. His eyes were wide when she met them. "Look, kid," his voice was oddly gentle. "I'm already hard and more than a little pissed that I had to run off Miss 36DD back there."

Maggie frowned. "Hey, I'm a D-cup. And I'm only eighteen. Gimme another year or two, I'll be a DD too. And they'll be _real_."

He rolled his eyes. "Goddamn, you're drunk as shit."

"So?"

"So your cousin will cut my goddamn balls off if anything happens here."

But Maggie's fogged-up imagination was already running wild. She felt bold and curious like never before about a man's skill. No way anyone that intense wouldn't be masterful in bed. Or up against a bathroom wall, wherever.

She cupped him through his jeans. _Damn. _"I'm just…" she paused, wanting to be sure she didn't slur her speech. It was so hard to talk. She searched for his eyes and found them fixed on the neckline of her top. He was breathing hard, nostrils flaring, an unspoken warning plain on his face. "…Lookin' for a little fun. Come on, big man, whacha got?"

**June 1990**

Stolen whiskey and Strawberry Passion lip balm had been the flavors of the spring. And cigarettes. Not those she smoked, those that lingered on Tig's breath and made his kiss as addictive as nicotine. Jeans and sneakers were traded for cut-offs and knee high boots with chunky buckles to keep her ankles from getting crushed if he laid the bike down.

Midnight rides with no helmet. Wind in her hair. Dancing on the bar. Popping pills she didn't know the names of. Sleeping in the daytime. Staying over at his place. Using his toothbrush. Laughing because he hated that she wanted to kiss him in public. Fucking until she couldn't sit down the next day…then fucking some more. Her daily life became an ever changing routine of Tig.

Tig's mouth on every inch of her body, doing nasty, wicked things that made her toes curl. He told her that if she put her face in the pillow, the neighbors wouldn't hear her screams and call the cops…like they had last time. By this time, Maggie was so far in over her head, she would have done anything he asked. Just so long as all the touching, rubbing, licking, fucking never stopped.

Maggie told herself she didn't love him, but she knew her eyes gave it away. And when she found him, hands on another's thighs, face beneath a skirt that wasn't hers…she tried to deny the fact that her heart shattered like glass dropped on concrete. But it did. And when the crying had ebbed, Gemma pulled her down the hall to her Closet of Doom and took down hatbox after hatbox of dark, sharp and deadly things. The Queen pressed a set of brass knuckles into her hand. Her task had been set.

But standing outside the nail salon, watching the plump girl file at another's nails and laugh amongst her friends, Maggie had faltered. The woman wasn't a Crow Eater, wasn't a hang-around, just some wannabe groupie with a fake tan and a bad tit job. She wasn't even pretty.

Gemma was behind her, urging her on, but Maggie felt suddenly very young, very small, and very stupid.

She dropped the knuckles and they clattered on the sidewalk. Gemma picked them up and followed her back to the car. She didn't say a word, but the Queen's disappointment was heavy on the air.

**Present Day**

"Mom? Hellooo."

"Oh, what?" Maggie shook her head, chasing away the long-buried past. She focused instead on her daughter, almost surprised by her stick straight brown hair. She half expected to be met by a girl with dark curls and blue eyes. But that relationship was dead, well before this _third _failed attempt had been initiated.

"Are you alright?" Ava asked. Her dark eyes were too knowing. "You've been weird ever since we left the hospital."

"I'm fine." Maggie popped a fry in her mouth as if that proved the point. She glanced back toward the window as she chewed. She'd never really dissected that piece of her past, but current circumstances were achingly similar. Gemma, from day one, had always handled her problems with punches instead of words. That's just how she worked. And looking back now, Maggie realized that her cousin always blamed the other woman. She surely shuddered from her man's touch for a day or so, but all the wrath and hurt was unloaded both barrels style on the offending whore, not the husband who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

Maggie had blamed Tig. Because she always blamed the man for the indiscretion. This town, this club, the reputation the Sons carried…sex was available at every turn and it was the man's burden to walk the straight and narrow. That was why Maggie hadn't taken brass knuckles to that woman's face all those years ago; Tig was the one she'd cared about and he'd done her wrong. She had hated him.

And now she was furious with Chibs.

Only, who moved on and who simmered in her own juices? It certainly wasn't Gemma.

"Mom."

Maggie looked back at her daughter and was struck silent for a moment. The afternoon sun was slanting through the plate glass window at an angle that turned the girl's mahogany hair to a burnished gold. With her thin, oval face and high cheekbones, creamy pale skin of the Commonwealth, she looked straight from an Austen novel. Her nose and eyes were her father's, but the regal way she lifted her chin to a challenging angle…that was all Gemma. She was a living, breathing SAMCRO legacy. MC royalty. Ava didn't feel akin to the bikers around her because that was all she knew, it was because it was all she _was_. The MC was in her bloodstream.

Suddenly, Maggie was determined that no Irish bitch she'd never met was going to waltz in and try to disrupt that lineage.

"What, baby?" she asked, finally focused solely on her daughter. Her head felt clear for the first time in hours.

Ava tilted her head, looking older than her thirteen years. "I'm not stupid, Mom. I know something's going on. You being upset, Kip coming with us, all that whispering with you and your cousin…and that woman today? Come on, what's up?"

Maggie sighed. "It's complicated."

"And again, I'm not stupid here."

Maggie twitched a grin. "No, you're not."

Against her better judgment, Maggie came clean…mostly. She omitted the part about Fiona being Chibs' wife, but everything else was told. Being attacked as a kid, running to Seattle, the reasons Chibs couldn't be with them, the IRA, all of it. The tale was exhausting and when she finished, Maggie leaned back against the booth, waiting for whatever explosion might be building inside her daughter.

Ava's eyes had widened to a point that seemed impossible. Now she just blinked and swallowed a few times. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow."

"So.." she took a deep breath, "are we in danger _now_? Like, right this minute?"

Maggie shrugged and veiled her check for the black Dodge with a pretended dig into her purse. She frowned when she noticed that the sedan was idling behind her truck. "No," she lied. "We're alright for now, but I think it's time we suited up."

***

Gemma caught sight of Tara coming towards her and perked up from her slumped position against the wall. First Oswald had refused to pony up the $3 million for bail…now this.

Tara had not scrubbed in, but she held a paper mask over her face. She crumpled it up in a fist after the door shut behind her. She scanned the hall – for what, Gemma didn't know – then hurried the rest of the way to the Queen. "They've got the bleeding stopped, finally," she sighed. "But they're gonna open him up and see how extensive the damage is. Whatever he was stabbed with left synthetic shards behind. There's a high chance of infection…"

The doctor faltered and rubbed a trembling hand across her eyes. When she pulled it away, she looked near tears. "Jesus, Gemma…if they did this to Juice…God, what if Jax…"

Gemma swallowed the lump in her throat. "You and I both know that Juice _is not _Jax. Our boy's fine," she said with a conviction she didn't feel. Behind the face she'd put on for the younger woman, she was shaking all over.

Tara nodded, though she didn't look convinced. Then her eyes widened and she nodded.

Gemma turned and saw Unser coming toward them, looking out of breath and paler than was healthy. She frowned. "Tell me you're here to take the cuffs off our poor little idiot in there," she nodded toward the door through which Tara had come. She was furious that Juice was cuffed to the operating table, two SJCCF guards standing vigil over his shanked and unconscious form.

The Chief flapped his arms. "Not my call, darlin'. Who is it? I caught word one of your boys was brought in here."

"Juice."

He shook his head. "That one always was quick on the draw," he muttered. "He gonna be okay, doc?"

Tara sighed. "I think so."

They stood a moment in heavy silence; Gemma and the only two to know about her rape. This incident with Juice just kept throwing coals on the fire. It reaffirmed her fear that LOAN could get to any of them, any time, anywhere.

She glanced down at Tara. "I'll catch up with ya later, doc."

Tara took the hint and excused herself down the hall.

When she was gone, Gemma leaned toward Unser conspiratorially. "Wayne, I need a favor."

"Anything," he said without hesitation.

***

Back in the clubhouse, Maggie rummaged through the drawers in Chibs' nightstand. It was full of empty cigarette packs, porno mags and random odds and ends. A belt buckle. A button stamped with the Levi's logo. An empty bottle of Jim Beam. She tried very hard to focus on the task at hand and not think about where she was and how many times she'd been here with Chibs.

Something square brushed her hand and she tugged it out, thinking it some other hot and heavy read she could throw aside, but instead withdrew the photo album she'd given him on their last visit. She smoothed a hand over the leather cover and sighed. It had been such a short encounter; no sex, no drinks…just lunch and a goodbye kiss she didn't want to end. Her eyes flitted over to the tattoo on her arm and she swallowed hard. She'd shown him her ink for the first time that day. She'd debated and warred with herself for years about getting marked, but missing him had become unbearable and she'd had Hap draw up a variation on the Charming traditional.

_Be strong _she reminded herself. She set the album on top of the nightstand and kept searching.

Finally, under several issues of something that looked as if it had been snitched from Tig's infamous collection, she found what she'd been after. The two knives she pulled out were a matching set. Each was about two inches long, single-edged and firmly seated in a bone handle. They were sharp, easy-to-hide little pig stickers, and while Maggie wouldn't want to gut and dress a deer with them, they were perfect for what she intended.

She sat on the edge of the bed, taking note of how deeply the old mattress dipped beneath her, and tugged off her boots. She folded the legs of her jeans and wrapped them tight at the ankles before stepping back into the boots, this time bringing the tall leather up over her jeans.

She loved her boots. No zippers or laces, just knee high pull-on Durangos with thick riding soles and ankle braces. They hugged her calves, but not so tightly that she couldn't secure one of the sheathed knives down inside.

Mission one accomplished, she stuck the other knife in her back pocket and left before she got bogged down in the memories of the room.

***

"This place gives me the creeps," Ava said from the bedroom doorway. She'd been hesitant to partake in the _it's not breaking in if we know the guy _theory, but now staunchly refused to enter Tig's bedroom.

"I think that's by design," Maggie waved in the general direction of the lava lamp on the bedside table and the pin-up girls on the wall. Maggie hadn't been here in ages, wouldn't be here now, but nobody kept extra arms lying around like ex-military types. And going to Gemma seemed like a bad plan.

She had rummaged through all the clothes and whatnot on the floor of the closet and was now working on the rusty latches of the USMC footlocker she couldn't believe he still had. When the lid came up, the interior of the trunk was dry, room temperature, and dust free. Tig didn't know a thing about house keeping, but his guns were serious business.

The top tier seemed to be devoted to pieces he used routinely. A Glock nine mil, Smith & Wesson .45, two .40s. She pulled out the shelf and found an M10, a sawed-off twelve gauge, and several revolvers. Bingo.

She knew that some part of her should be disturbed at the thought of rifling through a trunk full of guns – some of which were illegal in the hands of civilians – but her hands were steady as she selected the little snub nosed .38 from his collection. He'd never miss it and it would be small enough to hide. Just like the knives. Perfect.

When she stood, Ava must have caught sight of the gun, because she gasped lightly.

Maggie frowned. "What? All the boys carry."

"I know, but, I dunno, it's just weird seeing you hold one."

Maggie nodded, she understood. She tucked the gun away in her purse and pulled out the other pick-sticker. "Here," she handed it to Ava handle first.

The girl took it, but she looked skeptical. "What, I'm supposed to stab somebody?"

"If the wrong somebody comes after you…absolutely."

Ava's brows shot up.

Maggie sighed. "Remember when you asked if we were in danger?"

She nodded.

"Well, this is how we keep that from happening. Time to fight like girls, baby."

***

"Well?" Gemma recognized Unser's number on caller ID and didn't even bother with a greeting. She'd come back from her fruitless meeting with Oswald and hadn't been able to find Maggie. And she wasn't answering her cell. Worry was clenched up like a fist in her gut at this point.

The Chief sighed on the other end. "She went back to T-M, then I followed her over to some dump about a block off Main."

"Flagley?"

"Yup."

"Shit, that's Tig's place. What's she doing there?"

There was a frustrated sound from the other end. "Hell if I know. I didn't exactly go up and say 'hi' for old time's sake."

Gemma massaged a pounding forehead. Hell, the way her decisions had been going, calling Maggie down had turned to shit just like everything else. "But she seems okay, right?"

"Yeah, far as I can tell. One thing though."

"What?"

"Black Dodge Charger keeps showing up. It's not really tailing her, but it seems too coincidental. I ran the plates on the thing and came up empty."

Gemma closed her eyes and hoped that all her heavenly searching was paying off. Because she really needed someone upstairs to keep tabs on her little cousin. The Irish had found her.

***

For the fifth or sixth time in the past half hour, Ava slipped her hand inside her jacket and her fingers found the sheathed knife her mom had given her. She stroked the leather and the smooth, bone handle of the weapon, frightened and relieved at the same time.

Her dad was asleep again, had been since they had arrived. She thought he didn't look like the man in her mom's pictures anymore. He had silver in his hair at his temples. He was older, heavier…not the same.

When she was a little girl, she would mark off the days on the calendar until his next visit. He would come sweeping in the door and scoop her up, tall and strong, smelling like cigarettes. She had always loved when he read to her, or better yet, told her stories of his travels. He'd been all across the world and that rumbling brogue of his made the tales come alive. She could see the green hills of Scotland, the filth of downtown Belfast, taste the grit that hung on the air in Charming, California. He always told her that one day they'd all be together under one roof, a family.

But that day had never come. And his visits were now so infrequent that she didn't know him as well as the mailman. And he didn't know her either…the music she liked, books she read, friends she talked to at school. Chibs hadn't been there even a third as much as Happy and his crew. And he didn't know that somewhere along the line, Maggie had stopped thinking of Hap as an uncle. That she wished she were older so he didn't see her as a tag-along kid anymore either.

Ava glanced sideways and saw the determination on her mother's face as she stared at Chibs. Her story about the Irish and being attacked and forced to go into hiding had been frightening, if not a little unreal. But Maggie Lawson was not a liar. And she didn't scare too easy.

Ava sighed. There would be no turning her mother around now. However foolish it seemed, she wouldn't give up on their "Scotty dog".

Ava stroked the knife and knew that she'd given up on him a long time ago.

**TBC**


	7. When the Levee Breaks

**AN: Wow, sorry it's been so long. I've been busy with school and lining up all my little ducks so I can graduate in December. Plus, I've been working on a really fun original piece that had my undivided attention for a few days and I didn't want to just slap up this chapter before it was ready.**

**With this chapter, I'm adding an extra day to the timeline. I've found that writing a story that parallels the season is a lot harder than writing something more AU. And I want to clarify that all the security detail stuff with Maggie is because of the Irish and what they did to her in the past. At this point, Clay will never stop dealing with the IRA, but he will protect family if possible. Remember that the boys don't know about Gemma's rape yet and aren't worried about LOAN hurting their women. ;) I know you all know that, just saying it anyway.**

**Chapter 7: When the Levee Breaks**

Maggie cranked her truck to life the next morning and fired a look up at the rearview mirror to check for traffic. The black Charger was on the curb across the street from Clay and Gemma's.

"Shit," she muttered.

Beside her, Ava froze, halfway through buckling her seatbelt. "What?" She was spooked.

"Nothing." Maggie backed out and kept one eye on the Dodge as she shifted to drive and headed down the street. It followed.

The night before should have been a happy one – Elliot Oswald, through no plain kindness, Maggie was sure – had come up with bail money and all the boys were free. But Clay didn't come home with Gemma and Jax never stopped by. The Queen had been sitting at the dining room table, smoking and staring into her coffee when Maggie came downstairs.

Maggie had expected there to be an underlying tension as a result of the Aryan threat, but the Sons were not circling the wagons. Gemma seemed the only one keeping tabs on anyone, and her strength was faltering under the weight of it all. Gemma was about to crack in two and she wouldn't let Maggie do a damn thing about it.

So she was going back to the hospital to wait things out. But the Charger was a complicating factor. Time for a detour.

***

The interior of the clubhouse always felt dark and cave-like after being out in the splendid brilliance of a California morning. For a time, Maggie had been so completely at home amongst all the wood and biker memorabilia. Now it felt like entering as a guest and not a resident, almost like she was intruding.

The door sealed behind them and the shadows slowly took shapes as her eyes adjusted. Man-sized lumps were across the sofa and propped up in the arm chair. Someone was snoring softly. And the one awake Son stood behind the bar, elbows braced on the top, nursing a beer and looking totally disinterested with the world.

The soles of Maggie's boots on the hardwood drew Opie's attention and he glanced over. Though his face remained relatively impassive, his eyebrows shot up to the edge of the beanie that covered his out of control red hair. He set his beer down and edged closer, trying to be sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Maggie put a hand on Ava's shoulder and used it to steer the girl up to the bar alongside her. "Hey, Ope," she said softly so as not to wake the others. "Been a while."

He swallowed. "Yeah."

She had trouble seeing him this way. When she'd left, he'd been an awkward kid with patchy stubble on his face and an ever present grin. Now he was tall, all filled out and sporting a beard the guys in ZZ Top would be proud of. And he was a man transformed, by loss and grief and MC life in general. He now had the look of a man she wouldn't want to meet on a dark night. There was a blackness behind his eyes now, an emptiness. He was…_a killer_. There was no other word. She expected that from Tig or Hap, but not from Opie. It didn't suit him well.

He still stood with his hands clenched at the front of his cut, staring at her as if she were a ghost. Maggie decided that she would have to be the one make the first gesture. She went around the bar and hugged him.

Opie was stiff at first, but then slowly his arms came around her and held in a light, brotherly embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Ope," she whispered. She didn't have to say what for. He knew.

"Yeah. Thanks." He pushed her back and cleared his throat. He shifted so that he was leaned across the bar again and didn't make eye contact. "Clay said something about you being back in town. You on your way to the hospital?"

Still recovering from his cold shoulder, Maggie swallowed and took a minute to get her words out. "Yeah…headed there now. I was gonna see if I could leave Ava here…"

Opie hadn't so much as looked at the thirteen-year-old to this point, but snapped hard eyes up in her direction. "Why?"

"I -," Maggie debated telling the truth and finally just did. "..I'm a little…worried. I ran into _Fiona_…"

His face tweaked at the name.

"…and now I'm starting to think I've got a tail."

He frowned. "What's Clay say?"

She shrugged. "I haven't told him."

Opie set his beer down and rapped the top of the bar with his knuckles. "Wait here."

***

Clay had been, big surprise, furious, and twenty minutes later, Maggie was rolling down the streets of Charming with the big guns in tow. Tig and Hap rode side by side behind her truck. When she checked the rearview mirror, she saw their heads sweeping side to side, scanning the seemingly innocent storefronts of Main Street. The escort, _this _escort in particular, felt indulgent and unnecessary.

But Clay had turned to stone when she'd detailed the events of the past day. His brows had lowered until they covered his eyes and cast shadows down across his cheeks. His voice had been angry when he'd demanded her reasons for keeping this quiet. And then he'd sicced the two killers after her with a stern warning not to go _anywhere _alone again.

Both bikers were dismounted and up on the sidewalk in front of St. Thomas by the time Maggie untangled her purse and jacket from her seatbelt and slammed the door. Tig had the heel of his hand resting casually on the hilt of his bowie knife. She knew that Happy's eyes could have warped steel behind the lenses of his shades. She should have been reassured, but instead felt like she had a bulls eye on her back. _Look at me, I need _two _bodyguards. _

"No sign of the tail," Tig commented as Maggie and Ava joined them on the sidewalk. He rolled his shoulders as he studied the parking lot. "Don't mean they're not watching though."

"C'mon," Maggie gave his sleeve a quick tug. "We're conspicuous as hell out here."

The foursome filed into the hospital two-wide, the girls leading the way. Down the leg of her boot, Maggie felt the pressure of her stolen knife. Her purse was heavy with the gun too. And the additional firepower they were packing today…they'd be okay. She took a deep breath and hiked her chin up as they crossed the lobby to the elevators.

No sooner had she hit the UP button than Ava had her arms crossed and head tilted defiantly. "I don't wanna go up," she said.

"What?" Maggie whirled on her. "You're going up."

The teen met her mother's stare boldly. "I don't want to."

"Well, too bad -,"

"Mom-,"

"Ava-,"

"Hey, she can come with me," Hap spoke up, earning a sharp look from Maggie and a hopeful one from Ava. He shrugged. "I told Clay I'd check in on Juice. The kid can tag along."

Maggie's heart thundered against her ribs and that made her dizzy. She was reminded that she did have that old Family Flaw and it was rearing its ugly head at her sudden burst of fear. She looked into Ava's defiant frown and fought the urge to slap it off her face. The girl was being stupid, picking an argument when safety in numbers was so important…

She gulped down her fear and hated herself for wanting to use her hands instead of words. She'd never hit Ava…never. But the thought of her going off in the hospital scared her shitless.

Tig leaned in close. "They'll be on a different floor, Mags," he said quietly. "Irish won't be outside Juice's door. She'll be safe."

Maggie still felt the tightness in her chest, but his reasoning was sound. The odds that Irish spies were lurking around random hospital wings was slim. She looked to Happy and his face was hard. He gave her a single nod. He'd take care of the girl. He'd proved that before, and that look in his eyes…he'd prove it again if need be.

Maggie let out a long, shaky breath and nodded. "Watch her," she said.

"You got it," Hap nodded and put a hand on Ava's shoulder.

As she climbed onto the elevator, Maggie glanced back and saw the two of them standing there together; her little girl and the Tacoma killer. She knew that she'd failed her daughter, big time. She had let her grow too accustomed to this messed up, MC life she herself had never been able to give up. And now, it was Ava's only chance of safety.

***

"Aye," Jimmy sighed into the phone. He closed the cell with his chin and studied the wall for a moment, thinking. Don was one of his most trusted guys and had been on the prowl since the previous afternoon. He had called to confirm the suspicions; a woman and a girl who must be her daughter were visiting Filip in the hospital, and were staying with the Morrows in Charming.

His phone chirped; a picture message had arrived. He flipped the cell open again and hit VIEW. As the image loaded, he chewed at the inside of one cheek and thought about what this could mean for the Cause. Nearly fifteen years ago, he'd heard rumors from the States that Filip was tangled up with a Yank girl who may or may not have been related to Clay Morrow's Old Lady. Measures had been taken to ensure that whoever the bitch was, she didn't have Filip forgetting about Fiona anytime soon.

No, he and Fi had worked too hard to earn the loyalty of the Belfast Charter, and Filip had proved a link to the SOA mothership. He almost smiled at the memory of the first night that dumb, Scottish kid had stumbled into the pub, staring at nothing and downing whiskey like a man heartbroken. Jimmy could still feel the softness of Fiona's young lips against his ear as she'd leaned over his shoulder.

"_Fi, I need ya to do me a favor, darlin'," _he'd said. Then he'd sent her off with a sashay and a smile for the Scotsman. Filip had been on a tight leash since then, one that Jimmy had no intentions of loosening anytime soon. If Filip shut him out, the Cali Sons might too, and then he could kiss Belfast goodbye.

On his cell, the picture fizzled to life top-down, slowly revealing an image of a woman with wavy, dark blond hair. She was mid stride, one arm keeping pace at her side, the other floating behind the girl beside her. The woman was mid-thirties, well-preserved, hell of a rack…but the girl…damn. He plucked his reading glasses off the nightstand and held the phone up, squinting to see the grainy image.

The girl was Filip's, no mistaking her for anyone else's offspring. The features, the complexion, everything.

His leverage was gone.

Jimmy shut the phone and then just stared at it.

***

Ava had pulled the _I don't wanna _card not thinking her mom would go for it. In fact, she'd thought for a minute there she might get the holy hell slapped out of her.

But now she was walking down another featureless white and fluorescent hallway and almost giddy that she was alone with Happy. She stared straight ahead as they walked, but stole peripheral glimpses of his tattooed arms swinging in time with his gait. She heard the heavy sound of his boots on the tile, the quiet jangle of his wallet chain.

From her earliest memories, the only men in her life had been tan and tatted up, covered in scars and dressed in denim and leather. She had grown up identifying smoking, laughing and rough housing as typical male behavior. The sound of a Harley pulling up outside their bungalow was routine, muddy boots abandoned under the coffee table so normal she could remember stepping into them and tromping around the living room while Hap, Glen, or Koz laughed at her.

Her mother had been on maybe a handful of dates, and none of those guys had been invited into the house. Ava didn't understand men who wore suits or drove fancy cars. Some of her friends' fathers played golf and wore khaki pants…and that was just weird.

And then one afternoon six months prior, Ava had realized that the bikers in her life weren't just normal, they were…desired, if she wanted to phrase it that way. It was summer and Hap had come for one of his routine check-ins. She had been on the back patio, cross-legged in a wicker chair, doodling little nothing pictures. Happy had stepped outside to tell her he was heading out and she had looked up, all ready to tell him "bye", and had just froze. He'd had one hand on the doorframe, the other on his hip, tan, muscled, tattoo covered arms bare and beautiful in the fading sunlight. She had stared at him and for the first time noted the ridges of muscle in his flat belly beneath his t-shirt, saw the way his jeans rode low on his lean hips. And those dark, dark eyes that could stare right through a person – God, she'd wanted to drown in them.

When she'd finally shaken off the spell, she had been left with this confusing and unnamed yearning. She wanted something, wanted it bad, and had felt this overwhelming urge to ask Hap to just sit and let her trace his tats with a fingertip. She had talked to her friends and they told her she had a crush, and she lied to them and didn't tell them that Hap was old enough to be her father. And that she knew nothing could ever happen and that the thought killed her.

"Yo, this is us," Happy rumbled, knocking her from her daydreams.

Ava shook the memories away and realized that Hap had stopped in front of a room door and she'd continued walking. She turned and hurried back to his side.

Hap put his hand on the door lever, then paused and looked down at her. His face was hard as always, but his lips quirked into the tiniest of smiles. He was always sure to smile for her she thought with a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

"Look, Juice is a good kid, really," he said. "But…don't be too hard on him if he says something retarded, 'kay?"

She grinned because she couldn't seem to stop herself when she was with him. "He can't be any worse than Glen."

Hap barked a short laugh. "Yeah. Guess you're right."

Ava let him lead the way into the room and they both feel silent. She couldn't even hear her own breathing. Standing half behind Hap, Ava studied the lifeless man in the bed. His darkly tan skin almost reminded her of Hap, but his face was different. And only part of his head was shaved, leaving behind a closely cropped mohawk and intricate tattoos on either side of it.

He was asleep, stretched flat across the bed, head to the side, hooked to an assortment of monitors. He had dark shadows under his closed eyes. Although she didn't know him, Ava was instantly reminded of her father and a lump rose in her throat.

"What happened to him?" she whispered.

Hap's face pulled to the side in a frown. "Got hurt in the joint."

Ava frowned when he didn't elaborate. She was tired of being treated like a baby who couldn't handle the truth.

Happy crossed to the bed and thumped the young biker in the foot without much sympathy. Juice groaned and shifted beneath the sheets. He lifted an arm to rub at his eyes and winced when it pulled at the IV that was inserted into the back of his hand. He tried to say something and his voice failed.

"Whassup, bro?" Hap asked. There was a smile to his voice as he sat down on the end of the bed.

Juice looked like a zombie, but he used his free hand to scrape the crust from the corners of his eyes and managed a pained smile. "You know…" his voice was full of a gravel Ava didn't suspect was usually there. "Just hangin' out."

"Boys were worried," Hap said and gave him another hard knock to the feet.

Juice's laugh was more of a cough. "Yeah, well…" he rolled his head to the side and his eyes widened when he caught sight of Ava. They were bloodshot, but brown she noticed. Big and brown.

"Whoa, Hap. I know you like 'em young, but damn."

Ava's heart did a little stutter and she looked over to find Happy scowling fiercely.

"No, you idiot. This is Chibs' kid, the one I told you about."

"Ohhh."

Ava folded her arms. She hadn't thought hearing Happy refer to her as nothing but a kid would hurt so badly.

Juice squinted like he was trying to see her better. "Chibs' kid, huh? That just sounds weirder every time I hear it."

This was the second Son who didn't even know she existed. Her dad didn't talk about her. Looked like he'd given up on her too.

***

His world was gray, just a blur of swirling, pale hues that had no shape and no definition. Sounds seemed filtered and high pitched, like the whine of an AM radio. When his eyes were open, it only helped brighten things marginally. Chibs felt unattached. He floated, weightless, free of his body. He had no arms, no legs. He felt nothing save for this steady _thump thump thump _inside his head. The pounding echoed between his ears, crashing around, paining him.

He didn't know if he was drunk, or drugged, or dead maybe. Memories were fleeting snatches. Images of faces. Jax. Clay. Both seemed serious, both were grieved. He saw fire, lots of it. All around him. Consuming him.

But the strongest of all the visions, was one of an angel. He could recall with perfect clarity the lines of her face, the curve of her smile, the tears on her cheeks glittering like diamonds. Her hair fell in soft, pale waves over her shoulders. Her fingers stroked his skin, somehow breaking past the numbness that befell his body.

Not an angel, his Maggie. And not a vision. She was here.

Chibs blinked and strained to see her more clearly. Her lips stretched and curved, she smiled at him and whispered something soothing he couldn't make out for all the pounding in his head. He tried to work his lips around and couldn't feel them. He needed to warn her to leave. Because as much as he wanted her there, it wasn't safe. He couldn't bear for someone he loved that much to be exposed to all the fire. So much fire.

***

Sitting on the edge of his bed, stroking his hair and flinching when her fingers brushed the gauze that was wound tightly around his head, it was hard for Maggie to remind herself that he was not the man she thought she loved. Watching his eyes twitch beneath his lids, she tried and failed not to ache for what had been done to him. Before, he had sat beside her bed, now it was her turn.

_Bright lights and electronic sounds. Scratchy sheets, and pain, so much pain. Nurses and doctors talking in hushed tones. And all that time, Chibs was there, talking to her, touching her, climbing into bed beside her and holding her when she broke down._

Maggie found the beginning point of one of his scars and traced its length with her thumb. She had thought it back when, and still thought it now, how could anyone be such a monster to do this to him? How could anyone who knew him want to hurt him?

_Lying chest to chest, her face buried at the base of his throat, feeling his heartbeat. His hand brushing lightly over her belly, his voice a deep, rolling sound in her ear as he asked about the baby. No pressure, no signs of running, only genuine delight at the prospect of the life growing inside her. _

They'd had two months to talk and dream and prepare for a life as a family that would never come to pass. Before her attack, Chibs had been awkward and nervous and overly helpful, just like any father who planned on having a stake in the child's life. She wanted to hate him for being married, but when he was like this, and she was left with only his memory with which to converse, hating him was damn hard.

Maggie was tracing his scar for the third time when his eyes fluttered open. She couldn't help it, her first reaction was a smile.

***

The small waiting room was empty, so Tig had commandeered a second chair for his feet and alternated staring at the boring morning show on the wall mounted TV, and the boring pop culture mag he was scanning. He kept flipping through the glossy pages, hoping there was a story about a wardrobe malfunction and he could catch a little tit action. Didn't these hospital dicks know that not _everyone _here was a blubbering mess? That somebody might enjoy a _Playboy _or a _Hustler_? _Maxim _so didn't count.

He closed the magazine and tossed it in the general direction of one of the end tables. It landed on the tile with a _smack _and he could swear he felt the nurse scowling at him.

Being alone with his thoughts and no entertainment proved unhealthy because he started thinking about Maggie, and that had never been a good idea. He had always assumed he would never see her again. The Irish weren't going anywhere and he didn't have any plans to move to Seattle. So amidst all the chaos that had become their daily lives over the past few months, he had been unprepared to come face to face with her again.

She looked good, damn good. Still built like an hour glass but a little older, little smarter and more womanly. Her thirty-six years put her at the very edge of his age cut-off, but he'd still hit something that fit in jeans the way she did. And her face had always reminded him of Gemma's just a little.

But he didn't want Maggie here. For the same reasons the others did…and then some. She was family and he didn't want her hurt, didn't want her in danger, and didn't want her figuring out what was wrong with him. Didn't want her to question the guilt behind his eyes. Because Maggie had always thought he was a fuck-up, he couldn't stand for her to know about Donna.

Tig was sifting through the dark, unmentionable state of things in his mind when he glimpsed someone entering the private waiting room. It took him a moment to recognize the woman, but when he did, he bolted up out of his chair.

Fiona Larkin was in cream slacks and a colorful shirt that the women in Charming wouldn't be caught dead in. She walked slowly, very self-assured of her destination and her unimpeded trip there.

Well, bitch, prepare to get impeded. If there was ever a woman to trigger Tig's slap reflex, this was the one.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," he said as he closed the distance between them and made a move for her arm.

Fiona turned towards him slowly, eyes sweeping all the way up his frame with notable distaste. "You don't want to be touchin' me, biker boy," she bit out. "Not if you know what's good for business."

Tig sighed heavily and withdrew his hand, just itching to knock her a good one across that sneering mouth of hers. "Wait," he said when she started to move away. "Just…she's in there. Lemme pull her out before, 'kay?" He seethed silently while he waited for a response. He couldn't believe he was playing along with this bitch.

Fiona tilted her head and snorted. "Make it quick."

***

When Maggie heard the tap on the door, she assumed it was a nurse, but was surprised to see Tig poke his head through.

"Gotta pack it up, Mags," he said brusquely. "C'mon."

She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just club shit."

_Liar _she thought, but didn't argue. He was most likely just bored. She glanced down at Chibs, who had fallen asleep again, and sighed. "When you're back on your feet, I've got a serious bone to pick with you, Scotty," she whispered. She kissed him on the forehead, inhaling and lingering for a moment. He smelled like hospital instead of the usual smokes and dirt. It unnerved her.

Tig was holding the door open and kept glancing down the hall, frowning.

"Jesus, I'm coming," Maggie grumbled as she joined him. "Hold your goddamn…" her eyes landed on the woman in the waiting room "…horses."

"We're going," Tig said and locked an iron tight arm around her waist.

Maggie felt all the blood leech out of her face as they walked stiffly toward Fiona. Her boots were heavy, her chest constricted. It was just like before in the elevator; she was a trembling bundle of raw nerves and sadness. Hurt bubbled up in her throat and she knew she couldn't speak even if she tried. Anger at Chibs, anger at this bitch…it all manifested itself in a hypoglycemic fit of sorts. Her palms were damp and the soles of her feet were cold. She was no longer aware of walking, just sagged against Tig and knew that they somehow made progress down the hall.

Fiona was coming right at them and as they drew near, she smiled thinly. "Been keepin' him warm for me, dear?"

Maggie felt Tig pulling at her and realized she'd come to a screeching halt. _For her. _As if he _belonged _to her. The same woman who had flung him by the wayside. Maggie swallowed the hard lump in her throat and actually felt it slide down into her stomach, leaving her vocal chords unrestricted. "_What_?" she choked out.

"Maggie…" Tig had both his hands on her right arm and was pulling so hard he might dislocate her shoulder. She ignored him.

Fiona's face seemed to light up at the sound of her name. "Ahh, Maggie. So it _is _you, the little thing Jimmy had taken care of."

Maggie stared into the Irishwoman's eyes and knew she was talking about that night fourteen years ago when some brute had forced his way into her apartment. She could remember his meaty hands on her like it was yesterday, smell his breath, feel the bones in her wrist give way under his crushing grip.

She'd pleaded with him not to hurt her baby. _"Sorry, luv," _he'd said. _"'Fraid I can't do that."_

Maggie stopped trembling. "Yeah," she growled, leaning closer. "It _is _me. Guess Jimmy's not too good at 'taking care' of people, huh?"

Fiona didn't retreat, in fact, her smile widened. "And tell me, how'd your little one fare?"

Heat and adrenaline flooded Maggie's system in a sudden rush at the mention of Ava. A tumble of remembered voices clouded her vision to red; doctors advising her to abort the baby, Chibs apologizing. Ava had almost never existed…and it was this bitch's fault.

Maggie shrugged out of Tig's grasp and edged closer to Fiona. "Don't you dare talk about my little girl."

Fiona sobered a bit and leaned in, putting them face to face, inches apart. Her breath was hot on Maggie's face when she spoke. "You'd best remember who you're speaking to. We won't make the same mistakes as last time."

"What? You gonna kill me again? I'd like to see you try."

Fiona stepped back and addressed Tig over Maggie's shoulder. "Get your whore out of my face."

Maggie snapped. The levee broke. This bitch had hurt Chibs, hurt her, hurt Ava…_her family. _She was so goddamn tired of people messing with her family. All the pain, grief, anger, frustration, fury…all of it went shooting down her arm like a crack of lightening and she reared back a fist before Tig could stop her.

Thinking of Gemma, she lunged forward. _"That, sweetheart, is what we do to bitches who come after the wrong man."_

Maggie's fist collided with Fiona's eye and the other woman's head snapped back into the wall. Maggie was dimly aware of Tig pawing at her as she fell on top of her prey, leading with her fists.

***

"Shit!"

Fiona crumpled down against the wall and shielded her head against the punches Maggie was raining down on her, but she didn't fight back. Tig knew what she was doing – smart bitch was going to play the victim and go running back to Jimmy.

"You wanna fight, let's fucking fight, bitch!" Maggie screamed. She wasn't herself at the moment. She'd gone completely ape shit, not that he could blame her. You didn't mess with a mama bear and her cub. Especially if that mama bear was a Lawson.

Then Fiona made a rally and clawed Maggie, leaving deep gouges up her pale arms. Maggie let out an inhuman snarl and landed another blow to the eye.

Alright, time to break these bitches up.

Tig heard shouts and scuffles from the nurses' station and knew security had been called. He dodged her elbows and locked both arms around Maggie's waist. She protested loudly as he hefted her up into the air. She kicked and struggled, scratching his arms as she tried to get loose again.

"Hey!" he snapped. "Cool it, killer. You made your point."

Maggie was heaving in his arms, no longer resisting, but agitated beyond sanity. "You come after my baby, and I'll fucking kill you," she hissed as he dragged her down the hall.

Fiona was staggering to her feet, left eye already puffing up. She dabbed at a bloody spot on her lip and glared back at them. "You'll regret that," she said calmly.

"Come on, Mags, let's go," Tig urged. He didn't put her down until they were around the corner and out of sight. He saw the hefty security guards hoofing it their way, and knew what was coming.

Apparently Maggie did too. She turned back into him, shaking and sobbing. Her arms went around his waist like she'd forgotten it was him and not someone she gave a shit about. "Oh, God," she managed. "I didn't mean…I don't know how…"

"You're alright," he lied while he had the chance. "You're alright."

***

"Well, look at my little criminal."

Maggie batted puffy, cried out eyes and then turned them toward the speaker. On the other side of the holding cell bars, Gemma stood with her arms folded, looking more amused than she should.

Maggie sniffed and looked away, her damn head was all congested after crying like a fool. She was ashamed and scared. In the aftermath, it felt so stupid that she'd lowered herself to the level of hitting someone. She studied the angry, red scratches on her arms and frowned.

"Bitch didn't file charges, so I'm here to take you home," Gemma said.

Maggie shook her head. "Maybe I'm better off in here."

Gemma sighed and Maggie head a rustling of cloth like the Queen had sat down. She looked over and saw that Gemma was indeed on the floor, leaned back against the bars.

Maggie shifted on the hard cot so she could stare at her cousin's back. "Is Ava okay?"

"She's at Jax's house with Neeta and Abel. Hap's watching 'em."

Maggie sighed with relief. Her biggest fear was that she'd left her daughter unprotected after her outburst. If she'd had any tears left, she would have started crying again in relief.

Gemma was quiet for a long time.

"What?" Maggie asked after a bit. "No speech about digging myself into a hole?"

Gemma's shoulders heaved as she sighed. "No. No speech."

Maggie let her head fall softly against the cinderblock wall. The painted concrete was soothingly cool against her hot cheek. "I'm sorry, Gem. I know I fucked up. I know I shouldn't have…"

"The bitch pushed you into it," Gemma said quietly. "Sometimes you have to fight for your family. I've been telling you that since you were a kid."

Maggie nodded and ran her hands down her face. She should have known that the SAMCRO Queen would approve of her actions. But still…

"Gem, what happens now? I mean, how can Clay still do business with the IRA? Fiona pretty much said they would come after me."

Gemma's dark hair swayed against the bars as she shook her head. "That Irish bitch scares the hell outta me."

Maggie's eyes widened in shock.

The Queen turned so that Maggie could see her profile. Tears were tracking down her cheeks. "But we got bigger problems right now, baby," she whispered.

"But -,"

"I need to tell you something," Gemma went on. "And you have to promise not to tell _anyone._"

"Gemma, what is it?"

"Not Jax, not Clay…no one," her voice shook.

"I-,"

"Promise me."

Fear rippled across Maggie's skin and left goosebumps behind. This was whatever was clouding Gemma's heart and weighing her down. She swallowed hard. "Okay, I promise. No one."

Gemma took a deep, trembling breath. "It was a few months ago. The night Bobby was released. I was driving home from Jax's and there was this van…"

**TBC**


	8. Potlatch

**AN: This chapter is weak, I know. I'm so excited about a scene coming up in the future, but this one is unfortunately just filler. It should, however, get me back on the timeline. I added a day between the end of "Gilead" and the beginning of "Potlatch" before, so partway through this switches back to canon. Assume anything unwritten is true to episode plot. **

**Chapter 8: Potlatch**

"He's beautiful," Maggie couldn't help but smile as she looked down at the wiggling baby boy in the crib.

"I swear he looks just like Jax," Tara said with a smile of her own as she leaned down into the crib and adjusted the camo fleece blanket over Abel's now exposed legs.

Maggie glanced sideways and watched the affection and warmth that danced across the younger woman's face. Tara let her fingers linger, pinching lightly at his little toes.

"You up to being step-mom?"

The doctor's smile slipped as she straightened, but she nodded. "Well, nothing's official. Jax and I are just seeing where things go." Her eyes gave away her doubts though.

Maggie shrugged. "Hey, look at me, fourteen years in and I've still got no idea where things are going."

Tara winced. "I heard you got into some trouble."

"You could say that." Maggie held up her scratched arms and forced a smile. "You should see the other guy."

Tara didn't laugh. "So…" she shifted uncomfortably. "Gemma told you."

Maggie went over to the door and checked for listeners in the hall. Ava and Hap were watching TV in the living room of the little house, but she pulled the door to before returning to her post at the crib. "Yeah," she said heavily, feeling that old familiar burn behind her eyes. What had happened to Gemma…she didn't have words for. None. She'd been stricken with tearless sobs and she and her cousin had just held one another for awhile. Everything made sense now, but it didn't make it any easier.

"I was a little surprised she wanted to keep this quiet," Maggie said. "I mean, she's normally all ready for Clay and Jax to dish out the hurt."

"She's afraid it'll make things worse," Tara said. "Things have been…rough with those two. Jax and Opie don't talk, Jax and Clay hate each other." She shook her head. "But LOAN hurt Chibs because they didn't get the reaction they wanted out of Gemma. Keeping quiet is a dumb move at this point. The girl who hit her over the head that night, she's the one who positioned the van. If Gemma had said something…"

"I don't blame her," Maggie said with a frown. "I want her to talk for her own mental health, not because I think she got Chibs hurt."

Tara folded her arms and donned a very official, very annoying expression in Maggie's opinion. "She needs help, Maggie. I tried to get her to talk to someone at the hospital."

Maggie felt herself mimicking her stance. "Yeah? How'd that go? Gemma doesn't do shrinks."

The doc shifted her gaze to the floor, but her words were strong. She was developing a set, they just weren't fully descended. "I went to the trouble of setting the appointment and she skipped out on it. I'm actually glad you're here, maybe you can talk some sense into her. God knows I've tried."

"Whatever Gem did, she did it thinking she was protecting her family. Nothing _you _said is gonna change that."

Tara's pale features tightened, skin seeming to shrink over her cheeks as she forced a loud breath through her nose. Her bright greens eyes flashed upward. "I'm trying to help her, Maggie. Are you gonna pull the same bullshit everyone else has? Act like I'm some monster?"

"No, I'm gonna act like you're the girl who never gave a shit about this family and now you're telling me what's what."

Tara huffed defiantly, uncrossing her arms. "That shit's in the past, let it go. Besides, it's not exactly as if you've been around to do anything."

"Excuse me?"

"You have no idea how bad things have been around here -,"

Maggie cut her off. "I haven't _been around_ because I was nearly _killed _and had to go into hiding! Don't come crawling back after ripping Jax in half and act like you know what's best for my cousin. And don't you dare compare our situations."

Maggie knew her burnt out adrenaline over the Fiona incident was doing the talking, but she'd wanted to say this for a long time. "I wish to God I'd had the choice to stay here, but I didn't. You had that choice and threw it in everyone's faces. I appreciate you patching Gem up, but don't give me that holier than thou shit, Tara. It won't fly with me."

The doctor looked wounded and startled as Maggie turned to leave. Later she'd feel guilty about her harsh words, but at the moment, she couldn't have cared less if the little runaway had her feelings hurt. There were people in this family with worse afflictions than bruised egos.

***

Jimmy stood with his hands on his hips, watching with shock and disbelief as Fiona dabbed at the swelling around her left eye in the mirror. The flesh had swelled and darkened. Her lip was split. She kept lightly touching her wounds and wincing every so often, like she was just as flabbergasted as him.

"So, let's go over this again," he said tightly. "You _allowed _the bitch to disfigure you?"

She made a face at his language. "I could've killed her if I wanted to," she spat.

But there was fear dancing around in her good eye. She'd met a worthy opponent and didn't want to admit it. She wanted to play things off as if she had planned to lose. Jimmy had slowly become disenchanted with her and this little incident wasn't helping elevate his opinion of her.

"I think it's time I had a chat with this girl," he said, turning away from Fiona. "Our meeting's long overdue."

**The Next Morning – Beginning of "Potlatch"**

Maggie paused at the foot of the stairs the next morning. She listened to the stiff exchange of words between Gemma and Clay around the corner in the dining room and cringed. She couldn't make out the exact back and forth of their conversation, but it wasn't their typical banter. Gemma sounded quiet, unlike herself.

The scrape of a chair on hardwood followed by the clomp of boots announced Clay's departure. A moment later, his bike fired up outside.

Maggie slipped into the dining room and found her cousin once again sitting, smoking, and staring at nothing in particular. She wore no jewelry. Her hair was piled up on her head in a loose knot. Her hand shook as she raised the cigarette to her lips.

"How much of that did you hear?" Gemma asked on an exhale.

Maggie shrugged and slid into the seat Clay hadn't bothered to push back under the table. "Not the specifics, but it didn't sound good."

Gemma snorted and studied her cigarette intently as she rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. "The boys have shit to take care of today, so no escort for you. I'll swing by St. Thomas and check on Chibs."

Maggie nodded. She should have expected this after her Fiona stunt.

Gemma finally turned toward her. She looked tired. "And I'm having a family dinner tonight."

"A'ight," Maggie didn't like the thought of being sequestered in the house all day, but she wouldn't turn down anything for her cousin. Not after learning…"What d'ya need me to do?"

"Maybe pick things up around here? I'm having all the girls bring something. Can you call Luann and give her the rundown?"

"Sure."

"Oh," Gemma hinted at a smile for the first time. "And try to be nice to the doc. It's annoying as shit when she gets all pouty."

"She _tattled _on me?"

"Yeah." The Queen's grin widened into a true expression.

Maggie shook her head. "Never thought I'd see the day you were defending Tara."

"Not Tara, me." She patted one of Maggie's hands that was spread across the table top. "What happened to me, sweetheart, don't mean I can't stand up for myself."

Maggie knew her returning smile was sad. "Yeah. Okay."

***

One moment he was unconscious, the next he was awake. All of a sudden Chibs felt the scratch of the hospital sheets, the dull ache that ran from the top of his head all the way down his neck. He felt his lungs fill with air, heard the rush of breath cross his lips. He didn't know why, but he was more aware of his surroundings than he had been at all since the…well, whatever it had been. Something had knocked the holy hell out of him, he just couldn't remember what.

_Maggie._

Her name flashed against his eyelids. She had been here. He knew that. He could remember _that_. She had smiled at him, but cried also.

Chibs cracked his eyes open, at least, he tried to. They were damn heavy. Then everything was so blurry that it took him a moment to realize that he'd succeeded. Holy shit, he was reduced to _wondering _if his eyes were open? He could count the number of times he'd been sidelined on one hand and still have fingers left over. His current state was plain insulting.

There was a window in the room and the light pouring through was bright, filtered through cheap vertical blinds that did little to take the edge off. He blinked a few times and it helped. Then he realized there was someone sitting beneath the window, just a shadow against the white walls.

Chibs thought it must be Maggie and he squinted so he could make out her features.

And then he thought he must be hallucinating, because it wasn't Maggie. It was Fiona.

Fear licked through his useless body.

***

Maggie took the cordless house phone and her plate and just plopped on the living room floor. Ava was simultaneously texting and watching the _Sucker Free Countdown _on MTV2, something Maggie would have rather not been forced to sit through, but was beyond the point of caring. Her life was so topsy turvy at the moment, it felt nice to sit cross-legged on the floor in her bare feet with a plate full of nachos at eleven a.m.

"I put Rotel on these bad boys," she told Ava as she dialed the number Gemma had given her.

The teen glanced over and shrugged.

Maggie sighed as she put the phone to her ear and stole a quick bite before the other line picked up.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" Luann greeted after the third ring. Suspicious noises bounced around in the background.

"Luann? It's Maggie."

The echoes of voices filled the void for a moment before the porn producer could respond. "_Maggie_?" she asked finally. "Gem's Maggie? Jesus, girl! What're you doing in town?"

Maggie had been indifferent about talking to Luann, but became quickly delighted by the fact that she was the first person not to rail her about coming back to Charming and putting herself in danger. Maggie filled her in about dinner and recommended she bring a dessert and then the conversation turned to Luann's latest business dealings. Maggie tried to use a lot of "uh-huh"s and "you know"s to disguise the topics from Ava, but the girl was soon stretched out on the floor belly-down, picking at nachos and listening intently.

By the time she hung up, Maggie was looking forward to dinner with everyone. And for the first time in days, she wasn't thinking about Chibs and his wife.

***

Gemma hadn't been surprised to find Fiona in Chibs' room, nor had she been surprised that the bitch offered some bullshit excuse about needing to see him. The way she emphasized her words, the manner in which she spit out that accent like a weapon, it made the charade almost believable.

But throughout their short, clipped conversation, all Gemma could focus on was the Irishwoman's shiner. "You know," she said carefully – she really was freaked out by this bitch. "_Some _people in this town don't seem think you're here 'cause you 'care' about him."

Fiona smirked. "I guess you'd be meanin' the little biker whore who's been sneakin' her way 'round here."

"I don't think she was _sneakin' _when she fucked up your face."

Fiona crossed her legs and studied a crease in her slacks with a slight frown. "Strong girl, I'll give her that." She flashed her eyes up to Gemma and they were hard. "But she's gonna leave my husband alone now."

"Husband? He's your husband like I'm your friend. And the girl…she's my cousin. And I don't need to tell you what'll happen to Jimmy's relationship with the Belfast Sons if anything happens to her."

Fiona kicked her chin up. "And the little one?"

"Kerianne's half sister."

Fiona turned sideways to look at Chibs, giving Gemma a clear view of the bruises on her face. Maggie had done quite a number on her. And something told Gemma that if Tig hadn't pulled her off, Mags would have finished what she'd started.

Gemma studied her carefully. Fiona had always been the one woman whose mind worked the way her own did. Only more sinister and with less interest for those who loved her. It made her a difficult woman to read, and the most challenging personality Gemma had come up against. But something in her face now seemed to betray the haughtiness she carried around like luggage. Fiona had always thought she'd been in complete control of Chibs, but coming and finding Maggie had obviously been a surprise.

"You didn't expect this out of him, did you?" Gemma asked. "You didn't think he'd moved on."

Fiona said nothing.

***

By two o'clock, the boredom was setting in big time. Maggie had all the casserole dishes lined up on the counter and was sorting through the pantry, double checking that all ingredients were accounted for. So far, Gemma seemed to be out of garlic and chicken stock.

Maggie stared at the neat row of cans and debated the consequences of going into town. Finally, boredom won out. She couldn't hide out at Gemma's house all afternoon for fear of the Irish.

"Ava! C'mon, get your skinny butt in here, we're leaving."

It took a grand total of twenty minutes to convince the teenager that she was in _no way _going to be left alone what with crazy Irish people running around, and then drive into town. Maggie shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow was when she discovered that the market hadn't changed a bit in fourteen years. The floor tiles were dirtier, the shelves bowed under the weight of boxes, bags and cans, but it was the same store. Same clientele of ambling homemakers with carts full of cereal and beanie weenies. Same little end caps with clearance nail polish and do it yourself acrylic kits.

Maggie hooked a shopping basket over one arm and headed toward the aisle that had formerly been occupied by an odd mix of soup, pasta, world foods, and baby formula. As expected, the strange combo was still all shelved together. She smiled as she skimmed the labels with her eyes.

"This place is _tiny_," Ava whispered. She poked at a swollen can of peaches and frowned. "Hasn't anybody ever heard of a Publix around here?"

Maggie chuckled. Smallness was one of the things she loved about Charming. "There's not a single franchise in this town. No Starbucks, no Blockbuster," she gave her daughter an amused look. "No American Eagle."

Ava's mouth fell open in horror. "How do you not have an American Eagle? What the hell do people wear?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, what the _heck_?"

Maggie went back to searching labels. "There's an outlet mall in Pope. At least there used to be, Gem and I would go out there every so often." She finally located the chicken stock and added two cartons to her basket. "Now I just need garlic…" she glanced over and stifled a laugh at the way Ava had her nose crinkled up at the woman pushing her cart past them. The lady was in baggy sweats and still had rollers in her hair.

She nudged Ava. "Don't stare," she whispered in her ear.

Ava was shaking her head when she turned away. "Man, this whole town is like one big Wal-Mart."

Maggie steered her down the aisle and out of earshot of any patrons. "This is a reality check, babe. You've been around the club, but you haven't seen the kind of people who actually support an MC. SAMCRO is all very salt of the earth," she said as they made their way toward the produce section. "Simple people, simple means, tough lives." She grinned at the memory of her teenage years running around Charming with the boys. "I wouldn't trade it though."

***

Ava stood with arms folded and surveyed the pitiful selection of magazines in the market. Her mom had gotten bogged down picking up "a few extra things" for the big dinner and she was trying to find something to keep her occupied. That, and figure out if she could handle this salt of the earth stuff. If she couldn't shake what she felt for Happy, she guessed she would have to.

There was a man standing near her looking through the gun magazines and he suddenly came closer, reaching in front of her to snag a _Car and Driver_. His movement startled her and Ava stepped back, glancing up to realize that he was older and bigger than she'd originally thought. He was white, solidly built, sporting a buzz cut and a pair of nearly black eyes that made Hap's stare look like that of a puppy dog.

"Excuse me, sweetie," he said, pushing a shark like smile across his lips.

Ava felt her heartrate accelerate. She had spent her whole life around a group of men who scared the pants off her grandmother and most every other woman, and suddenly this man had alarms going off in her head. _Danger…danger…_

A hand clamped on her shoulder and she jumped. "Ready to get out of here, kiddo?" her mother's voice sounded in her ear and she relaxed, but only marginally.

***

Maggie had spotted the man beside her daughter and hustled over while trying to look casual. One look at that guy and a cold chill had rattled down her spine. Something about him was just…_off_.

She squeezed Ava's shoulder and started to back away, shooting a warning look at the man. He flashed tight eyes up at Maggie, and the expression in them had her backing away even faster. Then he grinned in a way that suggested he didn't do it often and rarely meant it. She scanned him head to toe, taking in the shaved head, cargo pants, boots, mean face, and the tat that his shirt left exposed at the base of his throat. She did a double take. The mark was a color blocked upside down peace symbol; this guy was AB. And his look…

Maggie sucked in a breath. This was the guy. The Nazi asshole who had raped Gemma. The Queen had described him at length, strongly admonishing any trips into the heart of town.

_Shit. _

"Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to startle the girl," he said, widening his creepy smile.

"That's a'ight," Maggie nodded. _Not _pissing him off seemed like a damn good idea. She waited, breath held, and eventually he wandered off into the store. She noticed with a shudder that he hadn't picked out a magazine. He hadn't been shopping.

***

Inside the privacy of the Charger, Don pulled his cell from his pocket when he saw the blond exit the market. She and the girl were alone for the first time and he had instructions to notify Jimmy as soon as an opportunity presented itself.

He watched the Lawson woman open up the rear door of her Ford and chuck the grocery bags inside. The girl hopped in and he could see her fumbling for her seatbelt. They were in a hurry.

Don's thumb was hovering over the SEND button when he saw a man exit the market and make his way toward the F150. He looked military almost with his shaved head and fatigue pants. Don thought he recognized him and rather than call, snapped a picture with his cell.

He watched as the blond pulled away from the curb, daughter and packages in tow, and didn't miss the angry glint to the bald man's eyes as he stared after the truck.

***

Silence. Luann was dead. _Dead_. Dinner was ruined on the table, the casserole dish shattered, and Gemma sat quaking in her chair.

Maggie heard her pulse slow to an unhealthy rate as the blood rushed through her ears. She studied the faces around her; Tara, Jax, Clay Tig, Bobby…all of them shocked. Their family dinner had turned to shit first with the doctor and the giant chip on her shoulder. Then the boys had come in ready to brawl. Now this.

"_I'm not the one murdering women!" _Jax's words rang inside her head.

The room was still and the absence of sound was suffocating.

Maggie had talked to Luann not eight hours before. Now she was dead. Beaten to death on the side of County 18.

Maggie scanned each and every person in the room and finally realized what had been bothering her since her return. Tara hadn't been blowing smoke when she'd said things were bad. SAMCRO wasn't fighting an outside enemy. SAMCRO was broken. Shattered from the inside out, just like Gemma's casserole dish.

**TBC**


	9. Neck Deep

**AN: Yes, last chap was boring as hell. I know. And I'm hoping that this helps a little with the boredom. Still short, but important. Next chap gets into "Balm" and Chibsy gets out of the hospital…I'm on Spring Break, it's pouring the rain, and I'm too broke to go to the beach. Which means more chapters for you guys!**

**Chapter 9: Neck Deep **

At six thirty a.m., Gemma was still in her robe, shuffling restlessly around the kitchen. She startled when Maggie popped through the doorway, nearly spilling the coffee grounds she was putting in the maker.

"Jesus Christ -,"

"I gotta head out," Maggie said quickly, hoping to avoid argument. "I'm leaving Ava here."

"Heading out?" Gemma was pissed. "What, you gonna leave me with your kid while you go get yourself killed? You're not going -,"

"I'll be back before you have to be at the office," Maggie cut her off. She left with her cousin cussing at her back.

***

Tara was in the process of pulling her hair back when she answered the door and nearly choked on a bobby pin when she caught sight of Maggie.

Afraid she might get it slammed in her face, Maggie propped the door open with a hand. She offered a weak smile. "Hey, Tara, I know it's early -,"

The doc snorted. "Not too early for you to come bash on me some more, I guess."

Maggie sighed. "No…look, I'm sorry. Okay? Yesterday…" she rubbed at the headache forming between her eyes. "It's been a hard few days, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And this shit with Chibs and Fiona and hell, Gemma," she shook her head. "I took all that out on you and I'm sorry."

Tara still looked a bit guarded, but she nodded. "Don't worry about it. Gemma did the same thing when I came back…I actually expected it from you sooner."

Maggie felt the tiniest of smiles form. "You hurt our boy. You know how that goes."

Tara sighed.

"We gonna be okay?"

"Now? No. But we've got bigger things to worry about now than our bullshit." Tara pulled the door open wider. "Did you wanna come in?"

"I need to talk to Jax."

***

"I got shit to do, Mags. What's this about?" Jax took an agitated puff on his cigarette and started pacing the tiny back deck of his house.

Maggie folded her arms against the early morning chill and hated that he wasn't a little calmer for this conversation. But the way things were going, if she had to wait for him to chill, they wouldn't talk for another fourteen years. "Nice to see you too, cuz."

He flicked the smoke out into the yard without extinguishing it. His face was hard when he rounded on her. "If you've got something to say, then just say it."

"Fine." She held up both hands in defeat. "I need to know what's going on, Jax. You guys are trying to kill each other, Chibs' _wife_, who I didn't even know about, is in town. This club's in a bad way right now."

He sighed heavily and seemed to settle down. "It's just club politic shit, Maggie. None of it concerns you."

"Politic shit with you and Clay?"

He didn't answer.

"And what about Chibs, huh? You didn't ever think I deserved to know he had a wife and a kid in Ireland?"

"What does it matter? He and Fiona are dead -"

"It didn't matter to you that I was his fucking _pregnant mistress_? He lied to me, Jax!"

"Keep your voice down," he said firmly.

Maggie backed up a step. This was not the goofy teenager she used to be able to intimidate with a look or an imitation of his mother. Grown up Jax was sure of himself and not taking shit off anyone.

She took a deep breath and started again. "I don't understand. You were so angry with him when we were kids. You hated that he was with me. Now, after all you know…"

"He's my brother, Maggie. He's saved my ass I don't know how many times."

"But -,"

"But nothing. You weren't here, Maggie, you didn't see how fucked up he was after you left." He shook his head in disbelief. "He loves you and the kid. He doesn't have to prove that to me and he _shouldn't _have to prove it to you."

She scraped her hair off her face and stared at the ground. This wasn't the reaction she'd been hoping for. She'd thought that Jax of all people would justify her doubts and worries; instead, he just reiterated that she needed to choke this down and get over it.

"And do you really wanna be sayin' that shit after you went after Tara yesterday?"

Maggie gave him a quick look and found his jaw locked.

"I get enough shit from Mom, don't you start in on her too -,"

Maggie held up both hands defensively. "I already apologized to her. Just a little misdirected anger."

He shook his head, not convinced. "I get that you came 'cause of Chibs, but don't flip your shit just because things are rough right now."

She didn't know what to say, so silence filled the uncomfortable void.

"Look, I got stuff to do." Jax finally started to leave and she snagged his sleeve. He sighed. "What?"

"I don't know what's going on," she said shakily. "But Luann's dead. Please be careful."

His features softened marginally and he leaned down to give her a quick peck at the corner of her mouth. "I'll be fine, Mags. We'll _all _be fine." His blue eyes were wide and serious as he met her gaze.

Maggie sighed, but nodded. "Love you."

"Yeah. You too."

Maggie stood and watched the sun come up after he left. She tried to, but she couldn't bring herself to believe him.

***

Maggie checked the clock as she drove through the center of town and cursed. She'd been gone longer than anticipated and Gemma was probably waiting on the porch for her with a shotgun. She glanced up and tapped the brakes for what felt like the hundredth time. The Expedition in front of her was driving erratically; speeding up and slowing down, drifting side to side. At one point, an oncoming car had laid on the horn when the SUV crossed the double yellow.

Maggie clicked on her right blinker and then groaned when the Expedition did the same. "Are you kidding me, asshole?" she grumbled as she turned off onto Charming Way. "Put the hammer down or pull the fuck over."

Charming Way was a narrow, twisty little residential street, but a car accelerated around Maggie to pass both her and the other truck. She glanced over, thinking to herself that the other driver must have a death wish pulling a stunt like that with all these blind curves, and then gasped. The other car was a black Charger with tinted windows. And it didn't pass her…it just lingered alongside her.

"Shit shit shit…"

The Expedition came to screeching halt in front of her and she barely managed to get her truck locked down. The transmission growled its protest and the tires skidded as the anti-lock brakes kicked in. She smelled rubber and braced her hands on the steering wheel as the Ford's nose dipped down hard, stopping mere inches from the SUV's bumper.

Maggie was breathing in big gulps. She felt suddenly sweaty all over and glanced up to the rearview, only to become more panicked. A black, shiny new Navigator was behind her. She was blocked in on all sides; too close to the other cars to even jump the curb.

She lunged across the cab after the gun in her purse and wound up eye-to-eye with a man aiming a .45 at her through the passenger window.

***

Gemma closed her phone and wrestled with the notion of hurling the thing against the wall. Maggie still wasn't back. And she wasn't answering her cell.

She charged into one of the two spare bedrooms and found Ava asleep on her stomach, one leg dangling off the side of the bed.

"Hey," Gemma sat down on the edge of the bed and shook the girl's shoulder. "Time to wake up."

Her eyes snapped open, but she didn't move. "Wha…time is it?"

"Time for your mom to learn how to answer her goddamn phone," Gemma grumbled. "C'mon, little bit. You're coming with me." She stood and then turned around expectantly, waiting for the teen to climb out of bed.

Ava propped up on her elbows, rubbed sleepily at her eyes, but made no move to extricate herself from the tangle of sheets and blankets. "Where's my mom?"

Gemma huffed a sigh and leaned down to pull the covers back. "I can't help her if you don't quit acting like a spoiled-ass brat. _Get up_."

Her face was sour, but Ava didn't press her luck as she stretched and yawned her way to a standing position. Gemma frowned when she saw that the baggy t-shirt she was sleeping in had SONS branded across the chest.

"Where'd you get that shirt?"

The girl ducked her head a bit and glanced up through her eyelashes sheepishly. "It's one of Happy's."

"Jesus Christ," Gemma threw up her hands as she headed for the door. "You girls are gonna kill me, you know that? Be downstairs in five."

***

Maggie snapped her head side to side, shallow breaths pumping her chest up and down. She was surrounded. There were three armed men, two in suits and one in plainclothes, all training guns on her through the truck windows. One at the driver's side, one at the passenger window, and one staring her down through the windshield.

But they made no move to approach her further. They were still, seemingly waiting for something.

Maggie wrapped her hands around the steering wheel to still them and looked to the rearview mirror again. The rear door of the Navigator swung open and another big meathead in a suit stepped out. He held the door open and waited as a second, smaller and trimmer man exited the SUV.

Another of many violent tremors raced down her spine as the pair walked up alongside her truck. The smaller man was a in a sharp suit, nothing like the sloppy, polyester shit of the thugs with the guns. His salt and pepper hair was short and styled away from his receding hairline in a brushy 'do. The way he walked, that self satisfied smirk on his face…this was the ringleader of the little group.

His beefcake handler pulled open her passenger door and then stepped back. The boss climbed in as gracefully as oil sliding over the leather interior.

Maggie's throat went dry as she watched him get situated. He set her purse up on the dash and reached inside, withdrawing the .38 she'd borrowed from Tig.

"Cute," he said, studying the revolver. He rolled his head to the side and quirked his eyebrows over the rims of his shades. "You wantin' to shoot me, luv?"

Irish. His accent was unmistakable.

When she didn't answer, he pushed his shades up onto his forehead and passed the revolver out to his guy. "Shy?" His voice had this amused edge to it, but very low. Like a man who wasn't used to having to yell to get people's attention. "Funny that, you didn't seem too timid when you popped Fi in the head now, did ya?"

Maggie closed her eyes briefly, willing this all away. She felt like a stupid kid, like the nineteen-year-old trouble maker who'd landed in hot water because of her big mouth. In the past, the boys had always been there to back her up. She looked up and stared into the soulless depths of the Irishman's eyes. There were no boys. No back up.

"You're Jimmy, aren't you?" her throat was so constricted it came out as a whisper.

He grinned and the tips of his canines looked sharp. Carnivorous. "Someone give the lady a door prize. And that would make you little miss Margaret, wouldn't it?"

Maggie didn't respond. She glanced desperately through the windshield, hoping the guard might have moved. He hadn't. She felt like a mouse hunkered down in a corner, slowly being circled by the cat. He was toying with her.

She heard him shifting around in his seat. "Tell me, where's the girl?"

Maggie swallowed, failed to remove the lump in her throat, and turned back to him. "Somewhere safe," she said, praying it was true.

His cheek twitched. "You really believe that?"

Maggie felt anger start to cloud over the fear. "She's not Chibs'. I don't know what you want with me, but leave her out of it."

"Not Filip's?" He gave a facial shrug. Jimmy reached through the open door and snapped his fingers. A moment later, a folder was placed in his hand and he leaned back inside the truck. He withdrew a glossy sheaf of paper and held it up for her inspection. It was a photo taken of her with Ava the day Tig and Happy had escorted them to the hospital. "Not Filip's?" he repeated. "I dunno, luv. I see quite the family resemblance there."

Knowing that he had photographic evidence, Maggie couldn't argue. Those eyebrows were a dead giveaway. "What do you want?" she ground out.

All pretenses at amusement left his face in an instant. Jimmy's features turned downright menacing as he leaned over the center armrest. "I ought to gut you like a fish for what you did to Fiona," he whispered.

Maggie's heart jumped so hard she thought it might push through her ribs. Images of the scars on Chibs' face left her dizzy.

Jimmy leaned back a fraction. "But I'm not like you," he said, regaining some of his earlier calm. "I don't have to prove myself with my knuckles." He reached up and tapped one of her bruised hands.

Maggie seethed and struggled to keep her voice level. "Really? Guess you came to that conclusion _after _you tried to have me killed fourteen years ago."

"Oh," he straightened his suit jacket and stared through the windshield. Nice and casual as if they were friends chatting. "Let's not dwell on the past, sweetheart."

Maggie's phone trilled in her purse and she bit her lip to keep from screaming at Jimmy not to touch it. He studied the ID display for a moment and snorted. "Gemma. That'd be Clay's wife."

She was silent.

"Your cousin must be worried about you, darlin'." He stared calmly at the ringing phone a moment longer, then he smashed it into the dash. Hard. The back cracked in two and went flying off.

Maggie gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white as she watched him destroy her phone. When he was done, he dropped the ruined bits to the floorboards and then shot her a grin that was creepily polite. She didn't know how to freak out any further, but somehow it happened when he spoke.

"Let's get a few things straight, luv." She hated that he used the same pet names for her that Chibs did. The words were wrong coming out of his evil mouth. "I need Filip and you need your little girl. We can walk away from this just fine."

By this point, tears were leaking out of her eyes and tracking quietly down her cheeks. "How's that?" she asked bitterly.

He leaned towards her again. "You go away and don't fucking come back."

Maggie wiped at her eyes and sniffed. "I won't let you intimidate me -,"

"I'll kill her," Jimmy clarified. "When I'm done with her, I'll string her up and cut her open while you watch."

She closed her eyes against the mental images, furious little sounds squeaking through her tightly pressed lips.

"You think about that," Jimmy said, and then he was gone. He just ghosted out of the truck and his goons disappeared one by one.

Maggie heard engines start up around her and was dimly aware of the other vehicles pulling away, leaving her alone. When they had slipped around the corner, when she was by herself, she let her forehead collapse down onto the steering wheel and loosed the sobs that had been threatening the entire time. The residual panic and anxiety melted into anguish, and she cried until dehydration threatened.

***

Ava wasn't sure what to make of Gemma. She had a feeling that one giant ass-beating awaited her under the woman's poised exterior. And after her little fit about getting up, she didn't want to test that theory further.

Ava had been inside the Tacoma clubhouse once, and then it was just because of some big security issue she hadn't been privy to at the time. From what she could remember, she thought it must be the fraternal twin of this clubhouse.

She eased through the door, holding it as it closed so no one would hear it slam. The interior was all worn wood, Harley mementos, old pictures, American flags, and reaper stuff everywhere. The day they'd dropped off Kip, she'd been fascinated by the Wall of Shame where each member had a mug shot to remind him of past indiscretions. Her father had, not surprisingly, been up there, looking slightly intoxicated.

This morning she heard the soft clink of pool balls and spotted two men she didn't recognize at the table, drinking and trash talking one another. Ava thought she might be able to slip through unnoticed and head down the back hall. Her dad had an empty room back there, maybe she could hang out and listen to her iPod for awhile. She frowned when she thought about what she'd normally be doing on a Thursday – studying, gossiping at lunch with her friends. She knew her teacher had called her mother about her absences. Maggie had hung up on poor Mrs. Dean with a snarl.

"Damn, what's this?" one of the bikers said loudly.

Ava froze halfway past the bar and turned to find the two pool players propped up on their cues and staring at her. She did a quick scan of their cuts; they were Nomads.

"Where you off to, girlie?" one of them laughed. "Shit, man, Clay keeps his boys in _young _sweetbutts, man."

"Hey."

Ava recognized the deep, gravelly voice and looked over her shoulder to see Happy coming out of the back hall. He was shooting a death glare at the two Nomads and she relaxed instantly.

"'S'up, Hap?" one of them nodded at his arrival. "You seein' this, man?"

Happy's scowl deepened, eyes almost seeming to darken. "Did I see you cat callin' Chibs' kid? Yeah, I saw it."

Ava nearly smiled when she checked the bikers' reactions. One nearly dropped the cigarette from between his lips. "Sorry, kid," the other said quickly. "Hap, man, we didn't know…"

Happy waved off the apology, but came around the bar so he stood between them and Ava. Her little heart flutter died quickly though when he frowned at her.

"What're you doing in here, kid? Where's your mom?"

Ava barely withheld her sigh. "She had to run an errand or something. Gemma made me come with her and I just thought…" he was still frowning and she realized that coming in here had not been the right idea. "Crap, I'm sorry, Happy. It's just, Gemma is kinda intense, ya know? And I think she hates me anyway…"

Hap's face cracked in two with a rare grin. "_Kinda _intense?" he chuckled and it sounded like the grumble of a Harley' engine. He knocked her on the arm as he headed for the pool table.

Ava felt her stomach cramp at the thought of him walking away. It was like that every time, like she felt all choked up and ready to cry and her stomach hurt…it made her desperate. "Happy, wait a sec."

He reached up to rub absently at his head when he faced her and she watched his tats writhe like living things across the lean muscles in his arm. She was so lost for a moment, she almost forgot what she had wanted to ask. But she shook herself out of the daydream. "Hap, Mom won't tell me what's going on…I mean, we've been here for days. Why aren't we headed back to Seattle yet?"

He sighed and shook his head. "That's not my area, kid. You'll have to ask your mom -,"

His answer was frustrating. "Dad doesn't care about us at all!" she blurted. "So why are we here if we're in danger?"

Hap stepped closer and steered her towards a bar stool that she obediently climbed atop.

"Ava," he rarely said her name and it sent goosebumps rippling across her arms. "If your Old Man didn't give a shit, I wouldn't have been on guard dog duty your whole life." He flashed her a stern look. "He loves you, kid. Loves your mom. Don't be so hard on him."

He was so close, their faces so near, Ava closed her eyes…

And then he was gone, headed for the TV with a fresh bottle of beer. Ava sighed.

***

Gemma looked up from her paperwork when Maggie stepped into the office doorway. The Queen started to rise, lips pinched up in a furious expression. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been calling you -,"

"My phone died," Maggie said flatly. Her face felt stiff and expressionless after crying.

Gemma came around the desk and her face softened when she saw her cousin a little more clearly. "What's wrong? You look like shit."

"Where's Ava?" she asked, ignoring the question.

"She's in the clubhouse." Gemma frowned and reached as if to touch Maggie's tear stained cheek. "What happened, baby?"

"Nothing," she brushed her away and headed back to the parking lot.

"Maggie," Gemma followed. "Sweetie -,"

"Don't," Maggie whirled around. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

Gemma was getting agitated and so was she. Maggie had no idea why she was being bitchy with her cousin…she just needed some air. Scratch that, needed her kid. "I just…gimme a minute."

***

The clubhouse was fairly quiet. Happy and some of his Nomad pals were lounging around on the sofas, already into the beer at ten in the morning. Maggie spotted Ava at the bar. The girl made a show of messing with her phone, but was plainly staring across the room at the tattooed killer.

She startled a bit when Maggie came up beside her and nearly pulled her off the stool in a hug.

"Whoa, what gives, Mom?" she pushed back.

Maggie felt the eyes of the bikers and didn't care. She tucked Ava's hair behind her ears and scanned her face for any sign of injury. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Mom, you're freaking me out, what's going on?"

Maggie sighed. "Just shut up a minute," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around her daughter in a fierce hug, resting her chin on top of her head. She thought about what Jimmy had warned her with. It didn't matter the time, the memories, the emotions invested; no one, but no one was worth the safety of her offspring. Not even the girl's daddy.

When she pulled back, Ava looked frightened. "It's okay, baby," she said, feeling a sad smile creep across her face. "We're going home. Soon as I know your dad's alright, we're going back to Seattle."

**TBC**


	10. Grown So Ugly

AN: Sorry it took so long. Had other stuff going on. I'm assuming that there was about a week between "Balm" and the episode before. So we'll go with that.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Grown So Ugly**

She looked beautiful, both of his girls did. They always had, but the view from his feet was so much better than when he'd been flat on his back. Chibs felt brand new; back in street clothes and out of that damn hospital gown, standing in front of Maggie and Ava. The sunlight streaming through the window picked up the golden highlights in Maggie's dark blonde hair, glistened off Ava's skin and made her face look like buffed china.

"Shit, it feels good to be up and around," he couldn't keep the chuckle out of his voice. He flexed his arms, cracked his knuckles. He was alive again. Not just a useless lump in a bed. Bikers were definitely not meant to be kept indoors that long.

"I know," Maggie said. He looked at her and she smiled, but the expression didn't quite touch her eyes. She looked…almost sad.

Chibs glanced over at his daughter and found her studying the toes of her sneakers, obviously avoiding him. He sighed. His last few visits had ended with her slamming her bedroom door in his face. She hated him and he couldn't quite blame her.

"Ava, baby, why don't you go hang out in the hall with Tara, huh?" Maggie stroked a hand down the girl's head, finger combing her hair.

Ava nodded and headed for the door, still staring at the ground.

Chibs started to let her go, but he couldn't help it. "Hey," he reached out and curled an arm around her waist. She stopped and glanced up at him guardedly. "Can't your Old Man get a hug?"

Ava tilted her head to the side and he could tell she almost sighed. "Yeah."

It killed him a little that she didn't return the embrace, that she just stood there, but he hugged her until he thought he might crack her spine. He'd lost one daughter, he wasn't ready to lose another.

***

Fear of Jimmy's plan had helped Maggie stay the course throughout the past week. But now it was mental pictures of Chibs and Fiona together that twisted the knife in her heart. She watched Ava stand limp as a fish in his arms, wanted the girl to have some sort of relationship with her father, but knew that in a few moments, she'd be just as guilty.

When Ava was gone and the door had clicked shut, Chibs rolled his shoulders around and gave her a half smile. "Guess she still ain't my biggest fan."

"She…" Maggie was surprised when her voice broke. God, this was hard. She smiled again, that same pathetic, unemotional smile she'd used a minute before. "She cried that first day," she said softly. "You looked so rough, baby…Chibs." She shook her head. "But you're all better now. So, yeah…you'll be fine."

"Luv," he frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

She chuckled without humor and dabbed at the corner of one eye. She was not going to cry. "Million dollar question," she said.

Chibs was staring at her, head tilted. For a moment, she pushed away all the Fiona shit and just looked at him, just remembered the wiry, thirty-year-old boxer who'd patched up her hand in the bathroom. Who'd carried her out of the Hairy Dog over his shoulder. Who'd bashed heads and traveled miles, all for her. She forgot about the married man who would never contradict his Irish puppet master as she placed her hands on his chest.

"Maggie?"

She scratched him through his black wifebeater, traced the dollar bill tattoo with her eyes, and pushed her hands up to his shoulders. She touched his arms, lingering over the tats there, memorizing the feel of his skin. Maggie glanced up and read the questions in his eyes.

"I love you so much," she said with a shaky grin. "Even though you're bad for me, even though I shouldn't…I love you." She stretched up and kissed him. He responded instantly, put his hands on her waist and drew her into him. She'd spent her whole life after James Dean types. And they always died or broke her heart, but the kisses were worth it. Always.

Maggie knew she broke away before he was ready. She ghosted a hand over the silver cross that was back around his neck as she stepped away. "Be careful, okay?" she sounded strangled.

Chibs' eyebrows arched even further than they did when at rest. "What's this about, sweetheart?"

She faked a shrug and a grin. "Nothing. Just happy to see you on your feet." She headed for the door before he could ask anything else. "Come on. The guys are waiting for you."

Tara stood outside the door, dressed in street clothes and trying to make idle chit chat with Ava. Kip was manning a wheelchair and grinned like a little kid when Maggie and Chibs stepped out in the hall.

Maggie hung back with Tara while all the whooping, hugging and back slapping went on. Jax, Bobby and Happy all exclaimed over their missed brother. And Jax had his cut waiting, ready to slide it up his arms and put him back on active duty.

"Are you sure about all this?" Tara asked softly as she, Maggie and Ava made their way toward the exit in a much more orderly fashion.

"No," Maggie sighed. "But I gotta do it." She glanced over and saw the doctor nod.

Tara had been very understanding of Maggie's need to get the hell out of Dodge. She'd even gone so far as to say that she couldn't even handle sweetbutts, much less a conniving wife from another continent. After her sympathy and her willingness to help Chibs with his insurance FUBAR, Maggie had no idea why she'd been such a shit to the doctor a week before.

All the guys save Jax had slipped around the corner. He stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for his Old Lady.

Maggie paused. "Tara." When the doc turned towards her, she hugged her, hard. "Thank you," Maggie whispered. "Thanks for taking care of our Scotty dog."

Tara offered a smile when they separated. "Be safe driving back, Maggie."

She nodded, then slipped an arm around Ava's shoulders. "Come on, kiddo. We've got a long trip ahead of us."

Ava fell into step woodenly. The toes of her Allstars squeaked as she shuffled along.

Maggie let Jax and Tara get a good ways ahead of them and then stopped. "What, Ava?" she sighed. "You've been bugging me for two weeks about going home, why so pouty now?"

The teen avoided eye contact and stared towards the elevators where the boys had disappeared moments before. She was frowning. "I dunno…"

"Well it certainly isn't because you'll miss your dad, so what gives?"

Ava sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and crossed her arms. Maggie recognized the look on her face; she'd seen it in the mirror more times than she'd care to remember. She had seen it developing for months and had tried to tell herself that Ava's crush on Happy was just that, a crush. She'd pine for him for a few weeks, then get over it. But Now Maggie was starting to think it unhealthy.

"He'll be back to Washington soon," she said. "You'll see him then, I'm sure."

Ava's eyes became unusually large as she faced her mother. She'd been found out and it made her nervous. "I…"

"Come on," she cut her off. "Let's get out of this damn hospital. Place makes my skin crawl."

***

As they pulled away from Galt Surplus, Chibs clenched the armrest with one hand and his gun with the other so the Prospect wouldn't see them tremor. Jimmy was in town. Caracara had burned to the ground. And Jax was going Nomad. Jax was going _Nomad. _He'd been on his back for two and half weeks and the whole world had gone to shit. Maybe if he'd never climbed inside that van, he could have been the voice of reason for his brother, could have kept his head screwed on straight.

But these days there was nothing to crowd out the voices in Jax's head. The VP was ready for a change, and he was damn sure going to make it happen. Scratch that…he wasn't anyone's VP anymore.

Chibs should have been celebrating the fact that he was going home. But instead all he could do was worry about what Jimmy would do if he found Maggie. Or how the club was going to function once Jax left. Or if business with the IRA could continue after what Edmond and Cameron had done.

Just seeing that O'Phelan bastard had sent hot hatred rushing through his nervous system. Had there been no witnesses, he would have put a bullet between those smug eyes and not thought twice. The man had ruined everything about his life, and now he was here on top of all the other shit.

He watched Charming slide past his window and felt like everything he'd known to be true was altered.

***

Maggie rapped on the open office door and offered a slight smile when her cousin glanced up from her paperwork. Gemma's frown was instant.

"So you're really doing this, huh?"

Maggie sighed. "You know I have to, Gem. Jimmy, Fiona…"

Gemma nestled her reading glasses up in her hair and pinned her with a very tired, world-weary stare. "We can handle Jimmy and that bitch. We can handle all of it." She tilted her chin enough so that she was almost looking down at Maggie even though she was sitting. "You're running, Maggie. You're running away because you're hurt and scared."

Maggie shook her head and averted her glance out through the window. The van was just pulling in at the gate. Chibs was home. "Wouldn't you?" she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Never," Gemma said. "But…it's kinda your thing, darlin'."

Maggie frowned, but her protest died in her throat. When she was eighteen and heartbroken over Jason, she'd run to Charming. When the Irish had come after her, she'd run to Seattle. And now she felt betrayed by Chibs, and she was running from him too.

Through the gaps in the blinds, she watched him climb from the van and meet Clay and the others halfway to the clubhouse. Hugs were traded, but even from a distance, Maggie read the tension in the way he stood. He was mad, stressed…something.

"And what happens," Gemma continued ",when you get out on the road and they come after you?" She sounded closer now, like she'd stood and come to the window as well. "What if Jimmy follows you out of town?"

Maggie turned to her cousin slowly, hating what she was about to say, but knowing she needed to. "And what happens when you get gang raped by a bunch of Nazi assholes?"

Gemma swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing. Her dark eyes were brimming with fear and sadness, but she pulled Maggie into a final hug. "Be careful, baby. Please, please be careful."

***

"The judge was hard to press, but he finally caved," Bobby said. Chibs was only half listening. Guns from Hamas? What the fuck? "He dropped the case," Bobby continued. "Should be gettin' our first shipment in a few weeks."

Chibs shook his head as they continued their slow walk across the parking lot towards the clubhouse. So far, Bobby 'catching him up' was just one freakish, bad luck tale after the other.

He scanned the lot from behind the lenses of his shades and spotted Maggie leaned back against the tailgate of her truck. She waved, not at him…he glanced back over his shoulder…but at Jax. Christ, she still looked amazing. All grown up and womanly. Lean but sporting curves in the right places. He completely tuned out Bobby and watched the breeze play with her hair, almost grinned to see her wearing those ridiculous boots still.

Chibs was fretful that she was in town, but she had lasted this long. To his knowledge, she'd had no trouble with the Irish. Maybe she could stay a few days more, give him a proper welcome home present.

Maggie tucked her hair behind her ears and he caught the flash of her car keys in one hand. She met his gaze for a fraction of a second, face suddenly guarded, and then headed around to the driver's side of the truck. Chibs came to a halt. Something wasn't right.

"Where's she goin'?" he asked, already knowing when he spotted Ava in the front seat.

"Who?"

"Maggie."

"Oh, um…Chibs, look…"

Wrong answer. He strode across the parking lot, thinking he might have to break into a jog because Maggie was rapidly climbing into the truck and getting herself situated. Her hand was on the handle, pulling the door to when he latched onto it with both hands at the frame.

Maggie jerked, eyes wild when she looked up at him. "Jesus, I almost closed your hand in the -,"

"Where are you going?" Chibs thought he sounded too stern and couldn't seem to help himself.

She sighed. "I…we're just…running some errands." Her face wasn't convincing, not by a long shot.

Chibs retreated just far enough so he could peek into the bed of the truck. He saw the luggage and his heart rate spiked. "Bullshit," he faced her again. "You're leaving, aren't you? You're leaving Charming."

"Chibs," Maggie sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Let's not do this, okay?"

"You've been here this long, what's another day or two? I didn't…I haven't…" he sighed too, frustrated at the situation. "I want to spend time with you, Maggie."

She put a hand on his chest and steered him back a step as she climbed from the truck. Once the door was closed, she folded her arms and stared off at nothing, presenting her profile. He suddenly felt very far away from her.

"I met Fiona," Maggie said simply.

The world seemed to fall away. He studied the almost imperceptible lines around her eyes, watched the end of her nose twitch, and tried to wrap his head around what she'd told him. She'd met Fiona. _Fiona. _If ever there were two people who should never have met…

He panicked. "Who?"

Maggie moved like a viper. One second she was a statue, the next she was whirling on him and thumping him hard in the chest with both hands. Her hazel eyes shot fire. Her lips pulled wide in a snarl. "_Who_?" she was incredulous. "Fiona, your motherfucking wife, Chibs!"

She moved to strike him again and he caught her wrists easily. "Calm down, luv."

"Calm down? _Calm down_?" She struggled and he didn't let up, which only agitated her further. Rather than scream and thrash, Maggie turned into her cousin. She went still and her face became cold. "Let go of me. Now," she hissed.

Chibs released her, but didn't back away. His pulse was erratic and he felt each pounding stroke of blood at the back of his head. If he couldn't get through to her now, there would be no second chance. "Maggie, listen to me. You were never supposed to run into Fi."

"Obviously!"

"No, I…" he pulled in a breath that wasn't deep enough and raked his fingers back through his hair. "Sweetheart, I was done with Fi before I met you. I swear. There's nothing -,"

"Stop." Maggie held up one hand and covered trembling lips with the other. She shook her head, closed her eyes. He knew that face, her ready to cry face.

"Maggie -,"

"No. I can't do this. I'm going home. I _can't _deal with you and your lies right now."

***

From beneath the overhang of the clubhouse roof, Clay watched Maggie knock Chibs hard with both hands and felt his brows scale his forehead. As if all their lives weren't destined for _Judge Judy _as it was…

"What the fuck is this?" he asked, arms outstretched.

"Um…" he recognized Tig's voice behind him. "Maggie's leaving. Taking the kid and heading back to Seattle."

"What?" Clay rounded on him and was met by a quick shrug.

"She found out about his little missus," Tig said, nonchalant. "Two of 'em got into it."

"Maggie and Fiona?"

Tig nodded.

"And I'm just finding out about this now?!"

"Sorry, brother."

***

Maggie knew she was on the verge, and the sad, lost look on Chibs' face almost made her want to take back everything she'd just said. Almost. She hadn't lied, she couldn't handle this. And maybe it made her a weak bitch, but she had to run. After all, it was her thing apparently.

Chibs had gone rigidly still, his face devoid of all expression. Then he very slowly and deliberately pushed his shades up into his hair. He leaned towards her, one hand braced on the truck cab. "What did you tell Ava?"

"Nothing."

"I lost Kerianne," his voice was pleading. "I can't -,"

"I didn't tell her." Maggie looked away from him again. She was rapidly losing willpower and needed to leave. Now. She spotted Happy leaned back against his bike and he lifted his brows over the rims of his shades when their gazes met.

_Are we going, or what? _he seemed to say.

She nodded, more to herself than to him, and faced Chibs one last time. His features were impassive as ever, but the pain behind his eyes had the sobs bubbling up in her throat. Maggie pushed them down and gave herself a mental shake. _She _was the one who'd been hurt here.

"Bye, Chibs," she said softly.

Maggie didn't know if he'd grab her, shake her, get in her face and call her stupid for throwing things away. But he just stood there while she climbed into her truck and cranked the thing to life – the truck he'd bought for her. And inside she cast a look across the cab at the daughter who was half his. Ava's brown eyes were so similar Maggie had to look away. And when she did, she saw Chibs in the side mirror.

Her heart shattered into a million pieces as she pulled out of T-M with Happy behind them. She risked one last look back, and saw her cousins and Chibs, Clay and Tig; the broken family she was leaving behind. She hated herself for it, but she had to leave them; they'd be better off without her bringing the Irish fury down on them.

***

"Yeah?" Jimmy answered his cell on the first ring. He recognized Don's voice.

"I've got the Lawson woman and the girl. They're about six miles outside of Charming."

"Alone?"

"One biker with 'em."

Jimmy frowned. "Jackson?"

"No," Don said. "Don't know 'im."

"Good. Take care of the girls and clean up the mess. No witnesses."

"Aye, boss."

***

She hadn't smoked a day in her life due to her bad heart, but staring at the endless stretch of empty pavement ahead, Maggie desperately wanted a cigarette. She danced her fingers along the leather ridges of the steering wheel and debated humming, crying, screaming, laughing…she was afraid to open her mouth because she had no idea what would come flying out of it. She checked for Happy in the rearview for the thousandth time and the reality of the situation became all the more heavy. She was leaving. She and Chibs were over.

Ava was unusually quiet in the passenger seat. No iPod. No staring moodily out the window or rolling her eyes. Her hands were folded in her lap and she watched the road with the detachment of someone much older and heavily intoxicated.

"You excited about going back to school?" Maggie asked to disrupt the monotony.

She saw Ava shake her head from the corner of her eye, dark hair swinging in front of her face.

"I thought you liked school."

"I like my friends, I don't like class…'cept for art." The girl took a deep breath, education obviously not on her mind. "Mom, I saw you and Dad. What…you hit him, Mom."

Maggie sighed. "I'm pissed at him right now, baby, but that doesn't change his relationship with you."

"Our family is so screwed up," Ava muttered.

"It's different," Maggie conceded. "But every family's screwed up somehow."

"Do you know what I tell my friends?" the girl's voice took on an angered edge. "I tell them that you and Dad are divorced. I don't ever say that he didn't care enough to stay with us."

"Don't say that. He does care -,"

"Then where has he been?! If crazy Irish assholes tried to kill you, why didn't he protect you? Why didn't he stand up to them? He let you go, Mom, and I don't know what you're mad about now, but he's letting you go again. I don't care what you and Hap say…he doesn't love us."

"Ava Rae!" Maggie took her eyes off the road long enough to fire a warning look across the cab. "Do _not _say shit like that. He may have fucked up over the years, but he loves…" she faltered and looked away from her daughter's challenging expression. "He…loves _you_, Ava. He really does. A father always loves his daughter."

"Yeah, he really loves his 'mistake' kid."

Everything Ava was pointing out was something Maggie had already come to question, and it gave her indigestion to hear it from a thirteen-year-old. She was tired and emotionally drained and didn't think she could hold up her end of the argument.

She sighed and did another routine check for Happy…then did a double take. The once empty road behind them was now occupied by a black Charger. And it was fast gaining ground on Hap's bike.

"That lying sonuvabitch!" she smacked the steering wheel as panic surged through her system. Jimmy had told her that if she left town, she could walk away from all this. That Ava would be fine.

He'd lied.

Maggie watched with horror as the sedan gunned up right behind the bike, then started edging over the center line. With the dark tint of the windows, she couldn't see who was inside or how many there were, but she knew their purpose.

Happy swiveled his head over his shoulder, obviously detecting the other vehicle.

And then Maggie felt her gut clench even more. If they were after her, they wouldn't risk leaving a witness. And he was on a bike, one tap from the car's fender…

"Oh shit…_oh shit_!"

"What, Mom?" Ava had been only slightly alerted by her first outburst, but now had a fearful edge to her voice. "Mom, what is it?" she was looking this way and that, suddenly paler.

Maggie was doing frantic calculations in her head, weighing her truck against the Dodge, trying to decide if she could still pull a stunt like this. Her summer of Tig had been filled with crazy, _Dukes of Hazzard _driving tricks with a bottle of gin split between them, but that had been a long time ago…

The Dodge closed the gap even further. It was now or never. Shit, did she have the willpower for this?

"Mom?"

Yeah. Hell yeah.

"Ava, is your seatbelt on?"

"I -,"

"Is it?!"

"Yeah."

"Hold on to something." She gave Happy one last glance in the rearview. "God, Hap, work with me on this."

Maggie took a deep breath…then she cut over into the oncoming lane and slammed on the brakes. Tires squealed as she came to a screeching halt. The Charger had been straddling the line and its left front fender collided with the truck, throwing Maggie and Ava against their seatbelts, impacting with a deafening crunch of metal and glass and plastic. Ava screamed.

Maggie's hands were shaking, but she took only a fraction of a second to see that Happy had been able to swerve around the mess, then threw the truck into reverse.

The tires squealed again, this time as they spun and struggled for purchase on the asphalt as the truck fought the Charger's weight. "Come on, come on!" Maggie chanted. The RPM needle was flopping around all crazy. She punched the gas one more time and the V8 roared under the hood. The transmission groaned, then finally kicked in and sent them rocketing backward, pushing the Charger along like a Hot Wheels car.

The Charger spun slightly and left black streaks of rubber on the pavement as it was shoved off to the shoulder of the road. Maggie drove like a madwoman, twisted around in her seat, steering with one hand and bracing against the opposite seat with the other. Every time the car seemed to be getting away from them, she cut the wheel and reconnected the bumper to its side. There was a dry creek bed running parallel to the road about seven feet off the shoulder, if she could just…

Suddenly the truck wasn't pushing anything and she braked to a halt. Through the back window, Maggie watched the sedan tumble and roll down into the little ditch, finally coming to rest on its roof, tires spinning in the air.

Ava was clenching the dash with white knuckles, breathing in ragged gasps. Later, Maggie would comfort her and question her own actions, but now she was on auto-pilot. She dug for her purse on the floorboards and found the .38.

"Mom!" Ava shouted as she put the truck in park and climbed out.

"Stay in the truck," she ordered, heading along the rear quarter panel towards the ditch.

Happy materialized, off his bike and gun drawn. "Wait here," his tone did not warrant argument as he strode towards the overturned car.

Maggie ignored him, walking quickly across the hard-packed, arid dirt. Adrenaline carried each foot further than the last. And watching the Reaper roll across Happy's back, she felt like a killer herself. This wasn't her, this was some hopped-up, Super Mom on steroids, but she felt powerful. Like she'd finally taken a stand. Like she'd done something to help her family for once.

When she hopped down into the creek bed, Hap was already kneeling in front of one ruined window, gun trained on whoever was inside. He risked a glance as she approached. "What the hell did I just tell you?"

"I wanna see him," she ignored the question. "I wanna know who it is." She flashed the .38 when Hap didn't budge.

He frowned, but moved over. "Point it at the fucker," he said. "Don't trust him."

Maggie got down on her knees in the tan dust, aiming her revolver into the shadowed depths of the car. Hanging upside down, face and head bloody, was one of Jimmy's goons. One of his arms hung limp, broken or dislocated, and he was wheezing with each breath. She'd fucked him up good. And somehow, knowing her baby was safe, she didn't care.

She moved aside and stood, not wanting to look at the man anymore. "He's one of Jimmy's guys," she told Hap.

"No shit."

"I want his cellphone."

Happy's perma-frown deepened. "The fuck for?"

"I just do, okay?"

Grumbling to himself, Happy dug around through the open window, shoving the injured Irishman aside and acting as if he were doing something as casual as looking through his sock drawer. He emerged a few moments later, a cheap-o cell in one hand. "Do you know what you're doing here, Mags? This is go-time. I need to get this shit cleaned up and get you out of here."

Maggie studied the phone and didn't meet his gaze. "I need a favor, Hap."

He said nothing.

"Take Ava back to the clubhouse. There's something I gotta do."

"No fucking way -,"

"Please," she gave him a desperate look. "Jimmy won't stop. He promised me I could leave town…and look at this. We all three almost got killed. No, I'm done with the games. But I want Ava safe. Please, Happy."

His expression could have warped steel. "What, I'm just supposed to leave you on the side of the road? Clay'll take my head off for that."

"No, I won't stay here. But I have to do this, Happy. And Ava…please. She's all I've got. I can deal if something happens to me, but her…"

He rubbed a hand over his scalp and exhaled loudly. "This is stupid. This is seriously fucking stupid."

"Please -,"

"Stop the _please _shit!" he barked, looking disgusted. "I'm coming back for you. I'm dropping the kid off and coming straight back. I'm not gonna be the one to tell Jax and Chibs that I let you get killed."

"Thank you," Maggie sighed.

She watched, not as horrified as she should have been, as Happy leaned down and fired three shots into the Charger's window. He stowed his gun and headed toward the truck.

"Hey, Hap?"

He glanced over his shoulder as he walked.

"Kill anyone who gets in your way."

He nodded. "You know I will."

**TBC**


	11. Stay Hard

AN: Sorry so slow, you guys! I'm completely swamped with school and the writing muscles in my brain get all cramped up. I don't know what to say about this chap other than hang with me, because there are still lots of wrongs to be righted.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Stay Hard**

Ava had spent a large portion of the past three years fantasizing about riding on the back of a bike. Happy's bike in particular. She used to stand on the patio on a windy day, close her eyes and pretend that she had her arms around his waist, that her hair was fluttering out behind her like a dark banner as they flew down a stretch of empty highway.

This was that fantasy come to life, but it was all wrong. Happy was going so, so fast and the little bump seat behind him wasn't substantial for shit. She couldn't think about the feel of his body under her arms because his borrowed helmet kept slipping down too far and the wind burned her eyes. And Hap had just shot a man. Shot him and then they'd left her mom to fend for herself on the side of the highway. It was all very, very wrong.

She rested her head against his back and the oversized helmet made the position uncomfortable. Through blurry eyes, she saw the Charming sign flash by.

***

Fiona sat on a hard stool in the kitchen of Devin's Pub and strained to hear the conversation out at the bar. She couldn't quite believe that even after this new woman and the other child, Filip had still come running at her request. The thought was satisfying.

Her cell chirped and she looked at the screen, expecting to find Kerianne's number, and frowned when she recognized one of the numbers the bodyguards used.

"Yeah?" she answered.

"We need to talk."

In one unfathomable instant, a chill rippled through Fiona. The voice coming through the phone of one of Jimmy's bodyguards belonged to Margaret Lawson.

***

Every day, every single fucking day, something else about their lives went the wrong way. Gemma watched her son strike off across the parking lot, the sun catching his hair and turning it gold, and didn't know how to get him off this Nomad kick. She'd given him the page in John's manuscript, but these days, she knew her influence with Jax wasn't what it used to be.

Her hands came together, fingers linking, and she raised them beneath her chin. She knew she wasn't a good Christian, felt somehow unworthy because she didn't know any formal, proper prayers by heart. But she asked for his safety anyway. _Father, watch over my son. He's so confused…_

A bike turned in at the gate, engine screaming. It took about two seconds for Gemma to realize that it was Happy, and that he had a girl with him. Ava.

She bolted out of her chair and met them halfway to the office. "What's goin' on? Where's Maggie?"

Hap shook his head as they neared. "I gotta go get her."

"Go _get _her?" Gemma glanced over at the girl and found her pale-faced and trembling. She had one hand twisted up in Happy's t-shirt and didn't seem ready to let go. "Where the hell is she?"

The killer managed to give her a hard look without taking his shades off. "Ran into some trouble. I'll be back." He wasn't giving anything away.

Gemma watched, furious and scared, as Hap pried the kid's hand away and pushed her back a step. He squeezed her shoulder before he let go. "Stay hard, kid. Your mom's fine."

Ava nodded and stared up at him like he was the sun to her universe. Gemma saw the glimmer of unshed tears as the light danced across her face. God, what had Maggie gotten herself into?

"C'mere, baby," Gemma stepped forward and pulled the girl into a sideways hug. She stroked a hand down her dark hair, noticing the tremor in her own hand. "You'd better bring her back," she called at Happy's retreating form. "Or I'm gonna have a new throw rug that looks a lot like you."

***

Parked along the side of the diner, hidden from view by a retro, two-tone van, Maggie could sit in her truck and watch the front door of the place. Estelle's was just one mile shy of the Charming border and saw a lot of trucker and day laborer traffic, but few locals and even fewer Sons. It was packed with lunch patrons and the din of voices and clinking flatware would drown out the jolly little conversation she intended to have with a certain Irish bitch.

She had Tig's .38 balanced on one thigh, fingers rested lightly on its grip. She had no idea how long her temporary insanity would last, but right now…she was borderline homicidal. When a knock sounded on the passenger window, she didn't even flinch, just thumbed the lock release and kept staring straight ahead.

Hap moved like a cat. He slid into the truck and managed to close his door without making a sound. "Kid's with Gemma," he said by way of greeting.

"Thanks," Maggie faced him.

He stared through the windshield, mouth curled in his usual frown, but he was calm. Totally relaxed and composed. Maggie had always noticed that about him. The guys called him and Tig both "killer", but each man was vicious in his own way. Tig enjoyed his job way too much. But Hap was all business. Always in control, completely impassionate. He was, surprisingly, the quietest Son, and had never been anything but accommodating when it came to Ava. Maggie thought that dying mother of his must have ingrained some manners in his killer head somewhere.

Feeling her stare, he removed his shades and gave her a stony look. "Did I tell you yet that this is a really fuckin' stupid idea?"

"You mentioned it," Maggie returned her attention to the diner. "But haven't you learned by now that I don't take direction well?"

He snorted, but said nothing.

They sat in silence for a long while. Maggie would crank the truck and run the AC at intervals when it became too stuffy. And then finally, Fiona made her appearance.

The Irishwoman was graceful in her gray slacks and white dress shirt. She paused at the door and shot glances up the sidewalk in both directions, then entered.

Maggie took a deep breath and slipped the gun into her purse. "Here we go."

***

He had always been the calm one. The one with the fabulous advice. The one in charge of the kids. Yes he loved to scrap and drink, cuss and talk too loud, but Chibs had spent the last fourteen years hardening into one of SAMCRO's rocks. He was stable, baby. No cares. No meltdowns. No angry, brooding looks or posturing. He did his job, and did it well. And had left a trail of indecent ladies in his wake.

But as Chibs pulled the van back into the T-M lot, he felt old and tired. This time he was jammed up so bad…no amount of boxing, fighting, smoking, drinking, fucking or laughing could get him out of this clusterfuck. Stahl and her threats. Jackie-boy and the club. Jimmy and his suggestions of things he'd like to do to Kerianne. Maggie leaving…it was all just too much. And worst of all, the rest of the club was in such tatters, there was no one to lean against. It was just him and this overload of fuckme that had been dumped on him.

He was almost to the clubhouse before he realized his daughter was sitting at one of the picnic tables.

Chibs did a double take. "Ava?"

His girl had been curled over the table, scratching away with pencil and paper, and she snapped her head up at the sound of his voice. Tears had left shiny wet tracks down her cheeks and her bottom lip had been chewed until it was bloody. The pencil fell out of her hand and she wiped at her face.

Some dormant part of his soul that wasn't full of booze, brothers and bitches stirred to life. His paternal instincts kicked in hard. In the middle of his shitstorm, his little girl was falling apart too.

"Where's your mum?" he asked as he closed the distance between them.

Ava had been nothing but cool and reserved with him thus far, so he was surprised when she didn't move away from him. She shook her head. "I dunno…she…I dunno, Dad."

_Dad. _Not _Da _like she'd say back home, but still…she hadn't called him that in a long time.

Chibs sat down and pulled her to him. Ava didn't resist, in fact, she flung her arms around him, face buried in the front of his cut. Where the hell was Maggie? And what had happened in the past few hours that had brought his girl back? Something wasn't right.

"What happened, darlin'?" he managed to keep his voice level.

She shuddered and it just killed him.

***

Maggie looked all the way down the counter inside the diner and spotted Happy waiting just outside the restrooms. The amazing bastard had snuck in through the service entrance and now had a perfect view of the line of booths against the big bank of windows. When all this was over, she was so baking him some brownies. Most likely special ones.

Maggie squared her shoulders and started down the narrow alley between the counter and the tables, locking onto Fiona's expressionless stare. The woman was leaned back against her booth, hands wrapped around a coffee mug like she intended to use its contents as a weapon.

Maggie waited for the apprehension to take hold…but it didn't. She kept walking and found herself beside the table. "You came," she said as she slid in across from her.

"Aye," Fiona tilted her chin to that angle that almost made Maggie want to compare her to Gemma. "You think I wouldn't?"

Maggie felt herself smirk and withdrew the gun from her purse beneath the cover of the table. She settled the revolver beside her on the seat, within easy reach should she need it. "I take you for a lot of things, sweetheart, but a pussy ain't one of 'em. I knew you'd come."

"You got a gun on me?"

"What do you think?"

"I heard it leave your bag," Fiona shrugged. "Smart girl."

Maggie nodded. As much hate as she had for this bitch, it was hard not to have some sort of respect for a woman so confident and so aware. Across the table, she sipped her coffee and acted as if this sort of conversation were commonplace. An afternoon out with a girlfriend rather than being a near hostage at the hands of her husband's mistress. That kind of confidence wasn't just a front – it was a tested truth.

Maggie shot a look through the windows. "You got eyes on us?"

"Do _you_?"

She grinned inwardly. This whole scenario just screamed of Gemma and her mind games. When she got done yelling later, her cousin might, just might, be proud of her.

"What d'ya want?" Fiona finally cut to the chase. "I'm not back soon, Jimmy'll come lookin'."

"His guy," Maggie fixed her with a hard look ",is dead. About ten miles north."

The Irishwoman frowned, losing some of her swagger for the first time. "How?"

"He had a little car trouble…and then a bad case of lead poisoning."

Fiona was silent, but Maggie didn't miss the hard way she swallowed, or the way the whites of her eyes flashed bright in the sun.

A waitress in a white and teal uniform ambled up to their table, cracking her gum and completely ignoring the tension between the two women. Maggie waved her away before she could finish asking if they wanted anything to eat. As she shuffled off on her white sneakers, Maggie leaned low across the table. The tumble of voices and scraping of plates prevented any eavesdropping.

"Jimmy told me I could get of town and leave Chibs and I'd be safe. He lied through his fucking teeth, didn't he?"

"Looks like you're still in one piece to me, darlin'."

"Don't get cute," Maggie lowered her voice to fight the anger. "This has never been about Chibs, has it? You're just a controlling, manipulative bitch. And jerking people around gets you hard."

Fiona smiled. "This from the biker girl? I don't have time for this…"

She started to slide out of the booth and Maggie cocked the revolver beneath the table, the hammer pulling back with a soft _click_.

Fiona froze.

"I don't want him," Maggie hissed. "You can keep his sorry ass. But you _will _leave me, and my family, alone. Last I checked, I wasn't running around Ireland trying to off your kid."

The other woman frowned, looking cool as always, but the finest sheen of sweat had popped up around her temples.

"Clay can pull the Belfast Sons' support like that," Maggie snapped her fingers. "You do not want to mess with me, bitch. If Jimmy needs the club, then you need Ava and me alive. And my cousins. And my friends. We clear on that?"

They stared at one another for what felt like forever, and finally, Fiona conceded her with the tiniest of nods, though her face was clearly not pleased with the decision. "Aye," she sighed.

"Good," Maggie said as the Irishwoman stood. "'Cause that's my last warning."

She waited until Fiona was gone from the diner, and then Maggie fell forward onto the table, catching herself with damp palms. She sucked in deep breaths, shaking all over in disbelief that things had gone as planned.

She didn't notice that Hap had moved until he was sliding into the booth across from her.

"Jesus," she muttered, pulling her hair off her face.

Happy almost looked like he was smiling.

"What?"

He chuckled. "You know...that was kinda badass."

***

For the first time in a long time, Ava didn't mind so much that she was hugging her father. He rubbed his palm up and down her back and spoke quietly in that deep, rolling voice she'd loved to hear as a little girl. He smelled like leather, cigarettes, and all the grease and oil that permeated the air around the shop. She didn't know where her mother was or if she was even alive, but her dad was here and real, solid under her arms.

"Ava, sweetheart, you need to tell me what happened," Chibs prodded gently after most of her tears had ebbed.

She pulled away from him and sniffed in the last of her hiccups. When she glanced up at his face, she thought he looked more tired than she'd ever seen him. He was all seriousness, the scars on his cheeks seeming deeper and more prominent than usual. He looked like she felt…only without all the crying bullshit.

"Dad…" she was almost amazed that his title had come out of her mouth so easily, twice now. "We…we were on our way out of town and this car pulled up behind us, tried to take Happy out."

"_What_?"

She nodded. "Mom pulled some crazy driving and knocked the guy off the road. Then she had Hap bring me back here."

"Happy left her alone? Where is she?"

"I dunno," Ava said. "I'm scared, Dad. She's not acting right. I just…" she shook her head, angry when tears threatened again.

Chibs sighed. "I know she ain't right. That'd be my fault, kid." He kissed her on the forehead and stood. "Stay with Gemma," he told her. "I'll go find 'em."

Ava felt lonely the instant he stepped away from the picnic table. She hadn't cared whether the man lived or died for the past few years, and suddenly, she wanted to be five and curled up in his lap again. He could slay all her dragons when she was little. Back before she knew that families weren't permanent and that thugs didn't care if you were innocent.

God, what if something happened to her mom and she was turned over to Chibs in California? And here he was running off to get himself killed too.

"Dad…" she started to call him back when the most beautiful sound reached her ears.

A Harley out on the street slowed, the growl of its engine unmistakable. A moment later, Maggie's Ford followed closely by Hap on his bike pulled in at the gate.

***

Gemma stood outside the office, leaning back against the wall and smoking when Maggie returned to the garage. She sighed as she climbed out of the truck, fully prepared for the verbal assault.

But Gemma remained calm. She exhaled a lazy stream of smoke and raised her eyebrows. "You enjoy that? Scaring the shit outta your family?"

Maggie frowned and Gemma nodded across the lot. Turning, she spotted Ava and Chibs, his arm around the girl's shoulders. Father and daughter all chummy and close. Maggie realized they _had _been freaked if those two were holding one another up.

Forcing a smile, she headed in their direction. "Hey, baby."

Ava maintained her cool teenager façade only a moment longer, then launched into her mother's arms.

"I'm sorry I spooked you," Maggie told her, hugging her tightly.

When she pulled back, Ava was frowning. "Not cool, Mom. So not cool."

"Aye," Chibs said. "We need to talk."

***

He listened to her story and glared at Happy every so often because he couldn't believe that he of all people had indulged her recklessness. The thought of Maggie pulling some daredevil shit behind the wheel and then calmly squaring off with Fi soured his stomach.

But now he knew one thing for sure. Jimmy had to go. That rat bastard had to be removed from the picture – permanently. Fiona would have to get away because he couldn't stand the thought of Kerianne being without her mother. But Jimmy was done.

Chibs stared across the table at Maggie and read the outright challenge in her eyes. She had always managed to look at him in such a way that he felt like less of a son of a bitch. But now…she was sizing him up like Fi would; daring him, wheels spinning fast behind her hazel eyes.

Even if she hated him, even if she packed her shit and went back to Seattle, he had to do this for her. For the daughter who actually knew him as her father…even if she didn't want to claim him. If Maggie was done with him, so be it. He'd drown himself in Crow Eaters for the rest of his life. He'd praise Tig as the smartest motherfucker in the world for not putting down roots with a woman. But he'd keep her safe as long as he could. He owed her that.

"I'll be back," he said, standing. He gave Maggie a hard look. "Can you keep your ass here, or do I need to tie you the fuck up?"

Ava recoiled, but her mother didn't even flinch. "We'll be here."

***

Chibs stared at the prepay he'd just closed, then panned his gaze out the windshield. It was hot inside all that black steel, damn hot, but his arms felt too heavy to reach over and crank down the window. Because he'd just put in a call to the devil herself and he thought he might just burst into flames as it was.

He sat and waited, and eventually, the dusty expanse of nothing started to fill up with black Suburbans and Crown Vics. He reminded himself again that he was doing this for his girls. All his girls.

***

This afternoon most definitely called for some liquor. Maggie had just poured herself two fingers of gin when the clubhouse door opened. Gemma stood graceful and resplendent in the halo of light that flooded through the jamb. Almost angel-like. But angel as in Michael, not the cherub things on Hallmark cards.

"Come with me," she said.

Maggie checked for Ava and found her curled up on her side on the old plaid sofa, staring at but not really seeing the images on the TV screen. The kid looked exhausted. Hap was in a recliner, watching her with his usual intensity. He met Maggie's eyes and nodded briefly. The clubhouse was empty; they'd be fine.

Maggie added another splash to her tumbler and then followed her cousin out into the brilliance that was late afternoon.

Gemma pulled a crumpled pack of Newports from her back pocket and shook out her last smoke, frowning. Once she was lit and puffing away, she fixed Maggie with a haunted look.

"It's gone too far," she said quietly. "This shit with Clay and Jax, the Irish, AB shitheads…it's too much."

Maggie nodded.

The Queen exhaled dragon style through her nostrils and stared out across the parking lot. "Stay at the clubhouse tonight. Don't go anywhere, don't try and do anything stupid."

"Gem-,"

"They're voting tonight. At the table…they're gonna vote to let Jax go Nomad."

Maggie sighed. She'd heard Jax's ramblings, but had discounted them. No way would John Teller's only living son leave Redwood.

"I'm gonna tell them."

Oh, God, the rape…"Gemma."

"I have to," she said, voice becoming stronger, but somehow more distant. When she faced Maggie, it was with a resolute sadness. "I have to save them."

Maggie could only nod. There would be no changing her mind. "Okay."

**TBC**


	12. Burn

AN: Okay, so I'll warn you guys that something is going to happen in this chapter that you probably won't like. It's awkward and wrong and you'll all be pissed at me. But I think circumstances and substances warrant this big FUBAR. And I'll fix it…promise.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Burn**

The problem with creativity was you couldn't shut it off. By the time she was ten, Ava's random doodles had turned to actual drawings. And somewhere in her middle school art classes, they'd started to become still lifes and landscapes and portraits. She didn't think of herself as talented, not yet anyway, but the slow smiles of her teachers told her she was improving. And that maybe she could take this skill set and run with it. She drew when she was bored, when she was happy, when inspiration struck her, or – like now – when she was stressed. Anxiety just seemed to increase her manic urge to put pencil to paper.

She was sitting at the bar about three stools down from her dad, sketching the empty beer bottle someone had left in front of her. The outline was complete and now she had progressed to shading, dragging the pencil in quick vertical sweeps, adding dimension to the picture. Beside her, Maggie talked on her cell in hushed tones. Ava could tell by the way she kept slipping "sir" into the conversation that she was speaking to her boss.

Ava continued to sketch and wished the whole entire day away. The clubhouse had nearly cleared out once the men came out of the chapel, all grim-faced and reserved. Now she inhaled second hand smoke and listened to the soft clink of pool balls behind her. She should have been perfectly content to hang in the clubhouse, but she was pissed at her mother, oddly indifferent about her dad, and all of it made her want to disappear.

No, it made her want to spend time with someone for whom her feelings were not conflicted.

Ava set down her pencil and turned around on her stool, eyes searching for Hap in the dark, smoky room. It didn't take her long to find him – she had some sort of Happy radar – and when she did, her heart dropped down into her gut.

The tattooed killer had been playing pool with Bobby, still was, only now he had a blond chick under his arm. Her red fingernails scraped lightly up his side through his shirt as she talked, her boobs all but falling out of her top.

Happy turned towards the woman and laughed at whatever she'd said. And then Ava watched in abject horror as he kissed her. And it wasn't a quick peck on the cheek, more like a sloppy, let's-do-it-on-the-pool-table spectacle that had Bobby chuckling to himself.

Surely someone had just rammed a knife between her ribs, because nothing else could explain the sudden stab of pain that bent her double. It was like watching someone puke; she was beyond disgusted, but couldn't look away. All the random snippets of her daydreams flickered to life in her head, all the remembered images of the way the sun hit his skin, or the twisted paths of the tats on his arms, or the way he'd smile at her every so often.

He never smiled at her the way he was smiling at that blond. He looked at her like she was a kid. Because that's what she was; nothing but a little kid. And Happy would never _want _her, never think she was beautiful and want to kiss her, want to touch her. This woman was curvy and sexy, dark lashes batting on her painted cheeks…she was everything Ava was not.

Something wet splashed down onto her hand and she realized it was a tear. Lots of tears. Oh, God, she was crying.

Hap chose that exact moment to glance over towards the bar and their eyes met for the briefest of seconds. His smile slipped and suddenly Ava wasn't just heartbroken, she was mortified.

She bolted, heard the stool bang down onto the floor as she tipped it sideways and didn't care. She ran, sneakers slapping the hardwood, and didn't stop until she was outside in the cool night air. She made it only a few feet before she collapsed with her hands braced on her knees. The air tasted like exhaust fumes and dirt, but she sucked it down anyway. The tears fell hot on the pavement and Ava wished they'd never come to Charming.

***

Maggie snapped her new cell shut – she'd managed to salvage her SIM card from the old one – and then poured herself another round. She'd known the conversation with her boss was coming, had cringed when she'd seen his number on caller ID, and was somehow not half as upset as she should have been. Warren was a nice guy – well, a nice guy for an attorney – and he'd tried to let her down easy. But with the economy as it was, he couldn't afford not to hire on a new girl while he waited for her to finish with her "family crisis".

And just like that Maggie was let go. Jobless. But sitting just a few stools away from Chibs, her lack of employment seemed highly irrelevant at the moment. She didn't have a degree, but she'd find something new. Hell, flipping burgers couldn't be that bad, could it?

There was a sudden flurry of activity from Ava and she turned to see the girl leaping off her stool, sending the thing crashing to the floor. The teen took off, sprinted for the door and banged through it.

"What the…" Maggie glanced across the room and saw Happy standing with a sweetbutt under one of his arms. The little tart was somewhere in her early thirties and her three-sizes-too-small clothes were all but busting at the seams. Hap had an unusually confused look on his face.

It was probably the gin, but Maggie was pissed. "Seriously, Hap?" she all but shouted as she climbed down from her own stool. "You couldn't take that shit to a back room?"

"What's goin' on?" Chibs snapped out of his whiskey induced stare.

Happy's face turned cold and hard in a hurry. He scowled at Maggie. "What the fuck's your problem? I been helpin' your ass all day -,"

"Ava!" she fired back, hands cracking into fists. "You knew this shit would upset her," she waved toward the blond who now looked like she might seriously be rethinking her male companion for the evening.

Chibs had stood and was now at Maggie's elbow. She jerked when she felt his touch on her arm. "What d'ya mean? What would upset her?"

Maggie moved away from him and gesticulated wildly with her hands, the alcohol mixing with her adrenaline and turning her into an idiot. "Ava's fucking _in love_ with him!" she aimed her temper and a finger at Chibs this time. "And he's over there getting ready to get it on with some whore right in front of her!"

Chibs' brows shot up in response. "_What_?" Nothing like hearing your little girl had it bad for a hitman old enough to be her father.

"_What_?" Bobby repeated in an equally shocked tone.

Maggie started backing toward the door, shooting a nasty look in Hap's direction. He had his chin tilted up in challenge, but had sense enough not to further the yelling match. "Can't any of you assholes think with something besides your dicks?" she fumed in parting.

She left with them all staring at her in some state of shock. Maggie didn't care anymore. Fuck 'em all.

She found Ava standing in the parking lot, arms wrapped around her middle, struggling to get tear-induced hiccups under control. Maggie took a moment to try and think of something halfway intelligent to console her daughter with, but her own screw-ups didn't lend themselves to any motherly wisdom. She had known that Ava's thing for Hap would eventually break the girl's heart. But that still didn't make it any easier to watch.

Maggie sighed and walked up behind her, pulling her into a backward hug. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

***

Chibs didn't even have the energy to say anything, just aimed his bottle toward the couch and Happy racked his cue with a sigh. They sat opposite one another, Chibs on the sofa, Hap in a recliner, and the following silence was filled with so much negative male energy that Bobby headed down the back hall mumbling some lame excuse or another.

"Chibs, bro," Hap finally said. "You know I -,"

Chibs halted him with a raised hand. "I know," he sighed. He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, head suddenly feeling too heavy for his neck. The weight of the day was nearly strangling him. "You've always watched them," he said. "And they're not easy to watch."

Happy just nodded.

"And when this is over, I know they'll go back to Seattle."

"Wouldn't matter if it was New Orleans, bro. You know I'll still watch."

On a day to day, casual basis, Chibs forgot how much he owed the Nomad. Hap and the Tacoma charter had been keeping an eye out since the day Ava was born. It wounded his manly pride that he couldn't take care of his own family, and he didn't figure those circumstances would ever change. He extended a hand that Happy clasped in his own.

"You know," he said slowly. "If you ever actually touch my daughter, I'll kill ya."

Hap grinned.

***

Ava was asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. Maggie very carefully pulled her sneakers off and covered her with the threadbare blanket folded down at the foot of Chibs' bed. The poor kid had wanted to go home, ready to leave for Seattle right that instant. But that wasn't happening anytime soon.

Maggie paused on her way out, lingered with her hand on the doorknob and just watched her daughter for a moment. She had never really wanted to be a mom. Hadn't intended to get knocked up. But none of that had seemed to matter once the doctors had handed her the baby, all pink and squirmy. Ava was her world. And every risk she'd taken that day had been for her…and had been worth it.

She left her to sleep, however fitfully, and went in search of another drink or three. She had a good buzz going and didn't want to mess that up.

Bobby was in front of the TV, staring at the Weather Channel, though Maggie suspected he was paying more attention to the bottle of bourbon resting on his knee. She scanned the room for other Sons, but he appeared to be alone, so she joined him, sinking down onto the black leather and chrome sofa that was so out of place opposite the plaid one. Her knees popped as she descended, reminding her that she wasn't as young as she used to be.

Bobby glanced up and sighed. "I'd ask how you're doing, but I think I know the answer to that."

Maggie snorted. Now that she was finally sitting, she realized she was _tired_. It had been a very long, stressful day. She stretched out on her side and propped up on an elbow. "You always were a bit of a psychic, Bobby," she teased without any real feeling.

He tilted his head so he was looking at her over the rims of his glasses. "Don't need to be a psychic to see what's wrong with you, darlin'."

She extended a hand into the empty space between them and Bobby pressed the Jim Beam into her hand. She took a generous swig, winced on the swallow, then passed it back. "Yeah?" she said as she resettled. "I don't think it's just me."

"True…but your problem's easier to fix than most anyone else's."

Maggie scowled at him.

"I can't get into Jax's head," he grumbled. "Club's fallin' apart. But you, Miss Maggie, you have a solution."

The burn of the Jim lingered in her throat, and in combination with the gin from before, it had her head all fogged up. It dulled the sting of having yet another person tell her she was fucking up. She made a face. "Solution? Yeah. Lay it on me, doc."

"Well for starters, you gotta get that kid around some boys her own age."

Maggie smiled sadly. "I've tried. She's only got eyes for Hap." She shook her head. "Just a crush. She'll fall hard, but she'll get back up."

Bobby grunted his disagreement. "Dunno, Mags. This is your kid we're talking about. She's grown up around the club -,"

"She's only thirteen. She's not gonna get anchored down with a club guy. I'm gonna make sure of it." Thinking about Hap putting hands on her daughter in _that _way turned the thump of her headache into a roar. She massaged her temples.

"And then," Bobby continued. "You gotta stop punishing Chibs, sweetheart."

_Chibs, Chibs, Chibs. _No one was on her side. Maggie frowned. "Why the hell does everyone keep telling me that?"

"'Cause you're killing him."

"All the shit he's seen…_I _won't be what kills him."

Maybe it was the liquor, but Maggie found no comfort in his very tired, very wise face. He tried anyway. "That Fiona shit's in the past. And right now, everything that's going on, he needs you."

"No, Bobby," she said quietly. "He never needed me. I was just an easy lay."

He started to protest and she staggered up from the couch. "I'm tired," she said. "And not drunk enough for this conversation."

Maggie weaved her way over to the bar and pulled a beer from the cooler. She heard Bobby get to his feet and shuffle around, obviously delaying his departure so he could give another infuriating piece of advice. She climbed up on a stool and stared at all the SAMCRO shit tacked onto the wall above the sink while she waited for him to leave. It pissed her off that he walked up behind her, even more so when his arm came around her waist and pulled her against him in a hug.

"Everybody loves you, sweetheart," he said softly. "Don't get so angry you lose sight of that."

Anger fizzled into sadness as he slipped away. Maggie took a hard pull on her Budweiser and tried to focus on the anger. If she let herself get sucked into all the turmoil she'd created, she'd cry for a week. And worse, she might cave and start worrying about Chibs. It was time to be a little more like Gemma…the Gemma she'd known before Nazis had ripped her to pieces. She'd never been the hard bitch of the family, and right now, that was sadly lacking within the club. Time to step up. Just as soon as she finished her beer…so time to step up.

***

It was blissfully dark behind the clubhouse. Chibs stood with a shoulder braced against the side of the van and a cigarette burning in one hand. He heard crickets and cicadas, the occasional grumble of an engine as someone ventured down the streets this late. Charming was quiet at night. No sirens or thumping radios, screaming voices or cracks of gunfire. It left a man alone with his thoughts – which wasn't really a good thing in his case.

Ratting to the cops was never an option in the MC. You were excommunicated, tossed on your ass, tats blacked out, or, in Kyle Hobart's case, burned off. You didn't rat. You got locked up, got shot up, moved the hell out of town, but you _did not _rat. Chibs thought of the look of calculated evil on Stahl's face that afternoon and shuddered.

Thinking about ATF and the paperwork he was to sign the next day had the dark closing in on him. The quiet became eerie instead of comforting, the night insects mocking him.

Chibs snuffed out his smoke and headed inside, slipping quietly in the rear door. He was tired, the freshly closed wound at the back of his head thumping in time with his pulse, but he knew that sleep wouldn't come easy. He had a bottle of Jack in his dorm though, that would help the process along.

He expected his room to be dark, and instead found the bedside lamp on low, its light washing over a sleeping Ava. Knowing all the women who'd been between those covers, it seemed wrong for his little girl to be tucked in. But of everyone, she was by far the most beautiful. To him anyway. Being a dad tended to skew your perception.

Chibs was silent about picking up his whiskey and settling in the shitty old desk chair in the corner. He watched his daughter sleep and knew that in this case, the club couldn't come first. His girls had to. And who knew, maybe the club would never know that it was him who'd given Jimmy up.

Somehow, he saw knives in his future. One to strip the patches from his cut…the other to cut the ink from his flesh.

***

Maggie drank until she couldn't feel it anymore. She may as well have had water sliding down her throat for all the comfort it gave her. She had her forehead in her palm, bottles and glasses closing in all around her when the door squealed open.

She grimaced, thinking it was Bobby, or worse yet, Chibs. But the footfalls seemed irregular, fast then slow, shuffling then landing flat. Maggie looked over her shoulder and couldn't decide if Tig was staggering, or if her vision was swimming. Maybe a little of both.

He came all the way up to the bar and nearly fell against it, catching himself at the last minute. His face was all wrong, eyes open too far, distant and faraway, red-rimmed as if he'd been crying.

Maggie tottered on her stool as she turned sideways to face him. "S'up…Tigger?" she worked her lips slowly. It was so hard to talk all of a sudden.

"Maggie?" his voice held none of its usual edge. It was almost child-like, high-pitched and wondrous. He pulled himself down the bar with his hands and then reached tentatively towards her, touching her face with just the tips of his fingers. His smile was slow. "Yeah…Maggie. Oh, I missed you, baby."

For some reason, the way he was looking at her made her giggle. "You did?" Maggie smiled too. "I thought…thought you…didn't like me."

"Naw." He laughed in an odd sort of way and she heard herself do the same. "We all like you. Gem's hot cousin…damn."

"You know," Maggie whispered loudly. She leaned forward, fumbling for balance. "I always did think you were the best."

He glanced up, still wide-eyed.

"The…Best," she repeated. "Hey, do you remember that time we were down at the Dog?"

His grin spread slowly. "The bathroom."

"God, that was fun, wasn't it? Wasn't it fun?"

"Yeah."

"We should do that again sometime."

Tig let go of the bar and he lurched forward, slamming into her. They struggled awkwardly and managed somehow to stay upright. Maggie was still on the stool, her back against the bar, Tig literally laying on her. His feet were on the floor, but all his weight was against her, arms around her waist, chin resting on her forehead.

Maggie closed her eyes and willed the room to stop spinning. Everything was blurry, Tig so heavy against her, crushing her, just like when she was a kid and he was so big above her…

"Tig…"

He shifted around and then his lips were against the side of her throat when he spoke. "So good you're here, Mags. So good. We just…I…need…"

Maggie was suddenly hot, his mouth on her skin burning through the haze of alcohol. She put her hands on his chest to push him away, but clutched fistfuls of his shirt instead. Tig pulled back from her unsteadily, his hands moving up and pushing her hair off her face, fingers tangling in the wavy strands. His face wasn't his, whoever he was, he wasn't Tig anymore. And Maggie didn't really care.

"I always loved you," he sounded near tears, voice cracking. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't, I really didn't, Mags."

Her heart and her head were knocking in sync. "I know," she breathed. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh," her eyelids flagged and she forced them open again. She rubbed her palms up and down his chest. Damn, still in great shape. "It's okay."

"No it's not."

"Yes, it -,"

He kissed her. Rough and sloppy, smearing her lipstick, grazing her tongue with his teeth. Maggie's spine popped instantly, back arching into him. He was leaning into her, hard and heavy, and she pushed back, knees falling open so he could move between them.

And then everything seemed to happen all at once. Right and wrong, boundaries, Old Lady rules…all that shit was gone, drowned with too much booze and whatever the hell he was tripping on. Goose bumps rippled across her flesh as it was exposed to the air. Tig pushed her shirt up with rough, clumsy movements and she thrust her chest forward, giving him easier access. He pulled the cups of her bra down and started massaging her breasts, thumbs circling her already hard nipples.

Maggie broke the kiss so she could scoot even closer to the edge of the stool. She was breathless and dizzy, hungry for more as she ground against him. He was hard through his jeans. She spread her legs wider so their hips met, belt buckles scraping together, and continued to roll her pelvis, now desperate at the feel of him.

He pinched her nipples and her head fell back. It had been a long, long time since the last time and now…she was going to come just with this contact, the feel of his hands and the friction of their jeans together. So good, it was so good…

Tig froze and it took her a moment to realize it. "Tigger -,"

He tweaked her right nipple hard – too hard. To a point of pain that was no longer pleasurable. A shudder raced down her spine when his lips moved to her ear. "You're a whore, Maggie," he whispered. "You've always been a whore."

He shoved away from her and managed to prop himself up against the bar again. He hung his head and shook it hard.

Maggie was still a moment and then fumbled to rearrange her clothes. She felt flushed all over, wobbly and shaken. It didn't matter that they shouldn't have been pawing at each other, or that she was too inebriated to function, the rejection still hurt. Her breath hitched and her eyes started to burn as she smoothed her shirt down again. God, even Tig the human Pap smear didn't want her.

"Whore," he repeated, voice pained. "He's so, so good to you, Mags, and you're a whore."

"Stop calling me that."

Tig rolled his head to the side and his eyes were even bigger if that were possible, his face slack. "We're no good together. Talk to Chibs. Make up with him. He loves you."

Maggie sat, gripping the bar until her knuckles turned white, struggling to stay upright as she watched Tig wander his way down the back hall.

_Make up with him. He loves you._

She was breathing hard and the room was still twirling around her. And among all the alcohol slopping around in her head, she found some sort of truth in what Tig had said. In what everyone had said.

_Make up with him. He loves you._

God, she did want Chibs. She really did. Memories of his fingers in her hair, his mouth on her body flooded her brain in a rush. She loved the sound of his voice, the way he snored, the feel of his hand on her belly in those two precious months between finding out she was pregnant and going to Seattle. She didn't see Fiona or Jimmy, she just saw the two of them together, saw him with baby Ava in his lap.

She'd come back to California thinking he might be dead. And now it felt like she'd never really known him. The pain was making her takes risks, making her do stupid crazy shit…like threaten Fiona Larkin with a gun…or try to fuck Tig in the middle of the clubhouse.

She couldn't live like this. She just couldn't; it hurt too bad.

_He loves you._

She really wanted to believe that because she sure as hell loved him.

She didn't know she'd moved until she was halfway down the hall, weaving back and forth, slapping at the wall for balance.

Maggie pushed into Chibs' dorm room, planning on climbing into bed with Ava, and was surprised to find him in a chair in the corner, staring at the sleeping girl. Maggie blinked, struggling to decide if he was a hallucination.

"I just wanted to sit with her for a bit," he said quietly, the roll of his voice tugging on her heartstrings.

She started for the bed and didn't make it before her legs finally gave out. But she didn't hit the floor. Arms were around her and she was lifted against a warm body. Her eyes lost the battle to unconsciousness too, but she felt the softness of the mattress as she was laid out on top of it. Knew it was Chibs' hand that smoothed her hair off her forehead.

"I'm so mad at you," she whispered, throat dry.

"I know, luv."

"Morning…we'll talk in the morning."

"Aye."

And then everything was dark.

**TBC**

_**That scene with Tig and Gemma in "Service" kinda bothered me, which doesn't explain why I just repeated it. But there's history there and Maggie's upset and drunk, and he's tripping on 'shrooms. Hopefully it will make more sense in the next chapter.** _


	13. Man Up

AN: Assume all unmentioned scenes of "Service" still happened, I just didn't rehash them.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Man Up**

Ava awoke the next morning to find her mother quite literally passed out beside her. _Classy, Mom. _And because she was trapped in this town and didn't want to be anywhere near Happy, she took her dad up on his offer to go to St. Thomas with him.

She clenched her bottle of orange juice under her chin so she could zip her hoodie against the morning chill. It was early, just after first light, and the desert night hadn't given way to daytime heat yet. Chibs walked in front of her across the parking lot, sleeveless and sporting all black as usual. Her mother had always said she got her slim figure from him, and from behind…yeah, she could see that. If she squinted, she could imagine him much younger, all tall and lean.

"Hey, Chibs!" someone called.

Ava turned and saw Kip limping toward them. "You guys going to get Juice?"

"Aye," Chibs answered. "You comin'?"

He nodded and Ava noticed his grimace as he drew closer. He was breathing heavy too.

"What's wrong with you?"

Kip shifted around again. "Um, well…

"Your new nut's bothering you," Ava said and earned startled looks from both men. She shrugged. "I have ears. I hear things, people."

Kip blushed furiously and swiped a hand back through his hair. "Um…yeah."

"Get in, ya muppet," Chibs huffed, shoving the Prospect towards the van.

He reached for the passenger door handle but Ava beat him to it. She gave him a steady _oh really _look. "I know what that Prospect patch means, buddy," she couldn't resist saying.

"In the back, Prospect," Chibs said. "Ladies get to ride shotgun."

Kip sighed and Ava grinned as he moved to the rear door.

The ride through town was quiet; the radio off and windows cracked. Ava leaned back in the bucket seat and sipped her orange juice, thinking that she had always remembered her father as much happier than he was now. He was the man with the eternal good mood…but not now.

Kip was shifting around in the backseat, jeans brushing the vinyl and proving just how uncomfortable the poor kid was. Ava nearly smiled when she realized she was thinking of the Prospect as a kid – even thirteen-year-olds held sway over the club grunts.

St. Thomas was quiet this early, a few ER stragglers filing out along with nurses who'd changed back into their civies and were clocked out for the morning.

Ava was no dummy. She hung right at Chibs' side as they went through the lobby and headed for the elevators. A strong understanding of danger and club risk far outweighed teenage impetuosity. Despite his relaxed look, she knew her father was alert as hell behind his shades. The hospital wasn't Son territory, and therefore not safe.

Kip didn't join them in the elevator car when the doors finally dinged open. "I'll go fill out his paperwork," he said, aiming a twitchy finger further down the hall.

Chibs nodded and then hit the third floor button. The doors closed over Kip's goofy half smile, half wince and Ava wished he were coming with them. He gave someone for her dad to talk to, kept his attention off of her.

"I'm surprised you came," he said and Ava cringed. And so it was to begin – the incredibly awkward father-daughter conversation.

The fact that it was awkward at all bothered her. If Chibs had been just another Son hanging around her living room, she would have enjoyed spending time with him. So why did blood relation make her hate him just a little?

Her parents had always had the strangest of relationships. He would show up a few times a year and her mother welcomed him in with open arms. They weren't married, weren't divorced, lived miles apart, and somehow Maggie had never moved on and found a stepfather for her. All that absenteeism on Chibs' part, and only now was Maggie actually mad at him. It made no sense.

"What's wrong with you and Mom?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

Chibs sighed. "Right now? Or in general?"

Ava sighed too because she knew the answer wouldn't be a good one. And because she figured he was just as confused as she was.

***

Bright. It was waaaaay too fucking bright. Maggie closed her eyes – well, she tried to. She quickly realized that her eyes were in fact already shut, which meant opening them would be a very bad idea. She clamped her lids down tight against the beam of sunlight passing through the dorm's one window and rolled onto her stomach. She was in yesterday's clothes and the jeans and t-shirt felt constrictive and uncomfortable. Her head was clenched up in the grip of a hangover headache that was damn close to a migraine.

She hadn't been this bad off since before Ava was born. Getting fall-down drunk wasn't exactly in the good mother playbook. She tried to count the drinks she'd had and gave up, that kind of math too tricky for her current state. At least she'd just crashed in the dorm and hadn't done anything stupid. At least she hadn't –

An image of Tig groping and sucking at her popped into her brain. Maggie forced herself up on her hands and knees, instantly regretting it when her stomach made a break for it. She staggered and stumbled her way into the bathroom, head splitting open, teeth clenching, eyes tearing at the bombardment of light. She groaned and hissed the whole way, barely managing to get the toilet lid up before she collapsed on her knees and brought up the remnants of her binge.

When her last fit of dry heaves had subsided, Maggie sat back against the bathroom wall and breathed in shallow huffs through her mouth. Thinking about what had almost transpired between her and Tig only worsened the headache and the nausea.

She _was_ a whore. When she got too hard up, when she wasn't getting what she wanted from Chibs, she turned to other men. Only they weren't co-workers or friends of friends, she went after other Sons; those who had too much at stake to risk fucking her. And Tig of all people…she didn't like the implications of a meaningless night with him. Because it wouldn't be meaningless, and it would hurt worse than it helped.

She rubbed her eyes and fought off another spell of nausea. She hated that Ava had seen her like that…wait, where was Ava? Maggie couldn't remember seeing her or Chibs when she'd made her mad dash to the bathroom.

She wrestled her phone from her back pocket and fired off a quick text. _Where r u?_

The response was just as fast. _With Dad_

***

Ava had gone to the hospital looking for a distraction, and Juice was one hell of a distraction.

He was shirtless and barefoot in dark wash jeans, the waistband of his boxers rolled out over top. He wasn't quite so lean as Happy, but muscled and thick, skin not just tan but a little dark too. He didn't have as many tats either; a reaper on one arm, several skull-themed designs on the other, and, she noticed with a blush, some sort of script on one pec just under his nipple. The tats on his head were no longer visible, the hair on either side of his mohawk having grown out during his hospital stay. Ava knew she was staring like an idiot and was thankful that he didn't seem to notice.

"Man, I am so glad I'm getting outta here," he told Chibs with a giant grin as he shoved his gorgeous arms through the sleeves of a t-shirt. He hiked the shirt on, head popping through the top still smiling. Ava was more than a little disappointed that he had to be fully clothed to leave the hospital.

"Know whacha mean," Chibs said. He pulled a fresh pair of boot socks from the duffel they'd brought and tossed them over. "Doc clear ya for 'active duty'?"

Juice perched on the edge of the bed so he could pull on the socks and then his boots. He shrugged. "Said I needed to take it easy for a day or two…so, yeah right on that. Got some Oxy though," he grinned again, the force behind the smile almost blinding. "For the 'pain'." He chuckled as he laced up his second boot. "I already feel a headache coming on."

"Yeah, not so fast, kid. Clay wants us at the table when we get back."

Juice made a face of protest that quickly disappeared when Chibs tossed him his cut. "Hey, baby," he said to the leather. "I missed you big time."

Ava watched him slide the thing on and then adjust it with a few good tugs at the front. She couldn't help but think he was hot as sin, but something about his whole demeanor was just friendly and adorable, and decidedly not scary. He had all the physical draw of a strong, powerful Son, but his swagger was a few notches off from intimidating. He didn't have that silent depth behind his eyes, that lethal stillness. Not like Hap did…

She shook her head hard, driving the thoughts away. Happy most certainly didn't think of her in any sort of special way, it was time for her to quit thinking about him.

She must have looked like a fool because Juice was frowning at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she forced a smile. Ava caught her father's gaze and he looked too knowing, so she looked away. Her dad didn't need to know what went on inside the female part of her brain. "We ready to go?"

"Gotta go find my Prospect," Chibs sighed, standing. "His new ball's givin' him trouble."

Juice winced. "Damn. I think I'll stick with the stab wound."

***

A shower, a toothbrush, three aspirin and a half a pot of coffee did little for Maggie's hangover. It did however enable her to sit upright on the sofa and keep her eyes at least partially open. She had both hands wrapped around a coffee mug, staring at a tear in the leather sofa across from her when Tig came in.

Her first instinct was to bolt, but her headache was going to make that damn near impossible. While her flawed heart hammered against her ribs, she swept her eyes over Tig and realized he looked like she felt, only he obviously hadn't showered. His rumpled clothes from the night before were dirty; red dust smears marring the knees of his jeans, little bits of straw or loose grass on his shirt. She hadn't noticed how dirty his hands were the night before, or how thoroughly messed up his hair was. His dark curls were verging on afro territory these days; way too long and out of control.

He shuffled up to the bar and seemed to notice her for the first time. "Hey," he croaked, before slumping onto a stool.

"Hey." Maggie's own voice sounded a little hoarse too.

It was painfully silent for a moment and Tig rested his forehead over his folded hands. He looked like he'd fallen asleep again.

"What was your poison?" she asked.

"Mushrooms." He groaned. "I fucking love 'shrooms."

"They don't love you."

He grunted something in the affirmative.

"Tig, last night…"

"Never happened."

Maggie sighed with relief. "Thank Jesus." She forced herself up and made her way slowly towards the kitchen. By the time she returned to the bar with a second cup of coffee, Tig was snoring. She left the mug at his elbow and returned to the couch.

***

Maggie was feeling slightly more human when Chibs and Ava returned. It was strange, but a little wonderful that the girl was suddenly okay to spend time with her father. They'd brought Juice with them – Maggie hadn't met him but had been given the rundown on the poor kid who'd been shanked in the prison yard. He was cute and she didn't miss the fact that Ava kept glancing over at him.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, getting shakily to her feet.

Ava nodded, no doubt still a little miffed about her passing out beside her the night before. But Chibs pushed his shades up into his hair, face worried. "You okay?"

Maggie nodded. The sea of unspoken questions and answers was palpable between them, but when Jax and Clay entered the clubhouse with matching frowns, she knew that now was not the time for that.

"Gem alright?" she asked her cousin.

Jax and Clay exchanged curious glances; they obviously hadn't known that she knew. Jax sighed. "She's a'ight. Might could stand some company though."

Maggie nodded. "Lemme get my keys."

"Church," Clay announced tiredly. "Where's the Prospect?"

"Outside," Chibs said.

Clay nodded. "Good. Maggie," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder and she was already shrugging into her light denim jacket.

"I know, boss." She put a hand on Ava's shoulder and spun her towards the door. Chibs was looking at her with disappointment, mouth curled up like he wanted to say something. _Later _she mouthed. She had a feeling that after this sit-down in the chapel, relationship bullshit would be the farthest thing from his mind.

"You okay to drive?"

"I'm good," she lied. Her purse was hanging with the jackets just inside the door and she snagged it as she and Ava headed out. Truthfully, she was glad to leave. Once the bomb was dropped, enraged wouldn't even begin to describe their moods.

Her shades were in her purse and thank the lord because the sun was triple strength outside. Maggie fumbled them on in a hurry, hissing at the burn that flared in her eyes.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" Ava asked, accusation heavy in her voice.

"I was drunk last night. Now I'm hungover. There's a difference."

Ava grumbled to herself as they crossed the parking lot slowly. "One of these days, I'm not gonna be your sidekick anymore, Mom. I'm tired of all this running around."

"Sure, baby. Whatever you say."

Maggie's alcohol handicap had them progressing toward her truck at a snail's pace, so slow that when Happy came out of the garage and headed for his bike, evasive maneuvers weren't possible.

The killer shot them a sideways look as he walked and Maggie felt a hand latch onto her arm. Ava leaned into her, her thin frame shaking. He nodded once and then faced forward again, totally casual as if no harsh words had been traded the night before.

Maggie was relieved, but ached for her daughter. "It's alright," she said softly enough that only Ava could hear. "It'll take some time, but it'll stop hurting."

"I don't believe you," the girl's voice was hopeless.

"I know. Me neither."

***

Tara was sitting with Gemma at the dining room table, the air swirling with cigarette smoke. Maggie sent Ava into the living room and joined them, taking a seat across from the doc and beside her cousin. She laid her hand over Gemma's on the table and squeezed gently.

"How'd it go?"

Gemma stared at her cigarette and said nothing. Maggie caught Tara's eye and the other woman shook her head slowly. Maggie swallowed and it did nothing for the lump in her throat. "You did the right thing, Gem. They needed to know."

"Yeah," the Queen said flatly.

***

Gemma didn't tell them to leave, but it became too tense to stay. Out in the driveway, Tara jangled her keys around in her hand and Maggie got the impression the younger woman wanted to ask her something.

"What is it?"

Tara almost smiled. "I…ah…have some time off from work and thought I'd relieve Neeta for the day. You interested in hitting the park?"

"Are you spooked to be alone?" Maggie asked knowingly.

The doc nodded.

"Sure, we got nowhere to be today."

***

It was hard to call the square of lawn in the center of Charming a park, but it served its purpose. Strategically planted trees threw shade over benches and a whole pack of children jostled and screamed and giggled their way around the slides, swings and monkey bars.

Maggie sat beside Tara on a bench, watching the doctor rock baby Abel in her lap. Ava was sprawled on her stomach on the grass a few yards away, drawing as always.

"It's kinda scary, ya know?" Tara said quietly.

Maggie raised her brows above the rims of her shades in question. Her eyes and head still hurt like a bitch.

"Seeing your daughter all caught up in this…mess. Makes me worry about this guy, about what kind of childhood he'll have around the club."

Just when she really started to like the doctor, Maggie was reminded of her naïveté. She leaned back against the bench and sighed. "Tara, it just comes with the territory. When a Son has a kid, that kid grows up fast and hard. And when that kid's a boy, he's destined for a cut and a Harley."

"It just…I don't know. Jax is what he is, you can't change that. But Abel…he could do something else if he wanted. It seems ridiculous to think that he can't choose what to become."

With anyone else, Maggie would have rolled her eyes and coughed up some quick explanation about bikers and blood, but she knew that wouldn't work on Tara. "That girl," she said, nodding towards Ava ", was born and raised in a nice, quiet little neighborhood. She's smart, makes good grades, gonna make one hell of an artist someday…and when she was in sixth grade, she called me from the principal's office. This other girl had been giving her hell and Ava finally lost it, snapped on her ass and gave her two black eyes." Maggie smiled at the memory. "The administrator said she called the other girl a 'muppet'."

Tara raised skeptical eyebrows. "Muppet?"

"It wouldn't matter where Ava lived or how she was raised, her DNA is half Scottish thug and half, well," she shrugged ", me." Maggie reached over and pressed Abel's little nose like a button. He grinned and so did she. "Abel is Jax's son. He'll always be a risk taker. He might as well take those risks around family."

"Thanks," Tara sighed. "I don't feel any better at all…but thanks."

The doc's phone rang and it spared Maggie any more convincing. Tara spoke for only a moment before she snapped the thing shut. "They need me at the clubhouse," she sighed.

Maggie sat up a little straighter. "Why? Someone get hurt?"

"Tig needs patching up."

"Oh shit," Maggie thought about last night and wondered if Chibs had found out. "What happened?"

"Dunno," Tara stood and started collecting her things. "I hate to do this, but…"

"I'll take him," Maggie pulled Abel into her own lap. "Call me when you know something, okay?"

She nodded, already in professional doctor mode. "Yeah. I shouldn't be long. I'll pick Abel up at the house."

Maggie was worried as she watched her walk away. The club didn't need anymore shit at the moment, and now the guys were apparently getting jumped at their own clubhouse. She shifted Abel on her knees so he was facing her, his little baby brows all crimped up in confusion.

"You picked a bad time to come along, little man."

***

Tara didn't call and Abel became fussy after awhile, so Maggie decided it was time to pack things up and go see Grandma. But Gemma wasn't at home. Maggie parked alongside her Escalade at T-M and scanned the lot before climbing out of the truck.

"What's wrong?" Ava asked…which was more than a little annoying because that seemed to be the only thing either of them could talk about lately. Everything was wrong.

"It's too quiet," Maggie opened her door and just sat for a moment, listening for the clangs and whirs of garage noise. It was totally silent. Traffic on the road beyond the gates the only sound. Abel warbled in his carrier and she went to retrieve him from the back seat.

"You're being paranoid," Ava sighed as she joined her mother and slung the diaper bag over one arm.

"Well, it's a Thursday and nobody's in the garage. That sound normal to you?"

"I'm not a mechanic so I wouldn't know."

Maggie managed to heft Abel's carrier out and kick her daughter lightly in the ass, just hard enough to earn a glare. "Don't be a smartass," she said with a quick grin.

They found Gemma behind the desk in the office, not even pretending to work. She was smoking and staring at the window, face blank. Completely lost in her own head. She startled when they entered.

"Little guy needs a nap," Maggie said as she set the baby carrier up on the desk.

"Where's Tara?" Gemma turned and fiddled with his little socks, tucked his blanket over his legs.

"Dunno."

The Queen sighed and shook her head at something. Then she looked at Ava. "Can you babysit for a second? I need to talk to your mom."

Ava took the vacated chair and Maggie frowned in question. Gemma's mouth was set in a hard line, her hand iron tight as she gripped Maggie's forearm and towed her back outside.

"Ow! What the hell, Gem?"

She squeezed harder. _Shut up. _Once the door to the office was shut tight, she whirled on Maggie. "Have you talked to Chibs today?"

"No, not really. Why?"

"I just found him…shit…" her eyes were wide and seemed darker than usual when she fixed Maggie with a hard look. "He's in rough shape. Rough. And I don't know what he's done…but he seems to think it'll put him at risk with the club."

"Shit…did he and Tig get into it? Is that why Tara had to come?"

"Tig? No…what about Tig?" Gemma shifted her gaze towards the lot and folded her arms.

"Well if Tig -,"

"Enough about Tig, goddamnit! Listen to me, Chibs has done something…he said he had to protect the people he loved…_talk _to him, Maggie."

"I planned to, but then -,"

"No. No more planning bullshit. You make it right with him."

"I'm going to!" Maggie was pissed. "But it's been kinda busy around here, Gem. The guys just found out about you…they don't need my _Dawson's Creek _bullshit right now."

Gemma sighed. "Now is exactly when he needs it. I did my part to fix my boys. You need to fix yours."

Maggie retreated a step. She hadn't thought about it that way. "Fix him?"

Gemma's voice was low and intense. "This shit with LOAN is about to blow up, and they all need their heads in the game. I never told them about…me…because I knew they'd go in half-cocked. But I had to. And now they're gonna do what they have to. And they need Chibs to have his head on straight. If any of those boys is caught up in personal shit right now…he's gonna get himself killed."

Maggie sighed. Her cousin was right. At the end of the day, the SAMCRO Queen understood her organization better than most of the guys even. Those kind of smarts had enabled her to stay on top, and alive, for as long as she had.

"I'll talk to him. Watch my kid?"

"Of course, baby."

***

Chibs was at the bar with a bottle of Jack in one hand and a shot glass in the other. He didn't look up as Maggie approached and she debated the wisdom of this. It sounded so good when Gemma said it, but somehow felt foolish now. She laid a hand on his forearm anyway, not surprised that he didn't react.

"Hi, baby," she said softly, not liking the way the empty room echoed the sound.

His head turned towards her and she could tell he'd been crying. She'd never seen him cry. It scared the hell out of her.

"Chibs, what's the matter, baby? Gemma said that -,"

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said roughly and then shook her hand loose.

"You're upset -,"

"Leave it alone, Maggie," he was firm. "You didn't want to talk about this before, let's keep it that way."

Something had changed him, something that had scared him and made him _cry_. "Jimmy," she managed through gritted teeth. "It was that goddamn Irish pig. What did he do?"

"Maggie!" he snapped. "Shut the fuck up about it, alright! Jesus, woman, this doesn't concern you."

Maggie didn't feel any tears behind her eyes, didn't start shaking. She nodded once calmly. "Fine. Be an asshole." He didn't say anything and didn't call her back when she walked toward the door.

Jax was outside heading inside and he stopped her with a tug at her elbow. "Hey, Chibs in there?"

"Yeah," she tried to walk away and he held fast.

"You a'ight?"

"I'm perfect, Jax. Maybe you should be worried about your shithead Scotty in there because he's sure as hell fucked up."

He frowned. "He asked for a sit-down, wanted to tell us something. What's going on?"

She threw her hands in the air in defeat. "I don't know or give a fuck anymore, Jax. I really don't."

Jax released her but didn't look happy. He sighed. "I think I know what his deal is. Give us some time. We'll sort it out."

***

Maggie spent the next few hours in the office with Gemma. It was actually nice to help with invoicing and lose herself in some good old fashioned paperwork. It kept her from worrying about the shitstorm whirling around her. Or her apparently bipolar Scotsman.

At six o' clock, the crack of a gunshot broke the relative silence of the lot. Gemma and Maggie were both at the window in a heartbeat, spreading the blinds with their hands and scanning the lot furiously.

"Where'd it come from?" Maggie demanded. She went to the door and Gemma blocked the way with an outstretched arm.

"It could have been anybody, and I'm not taking chances."

Ava hunkered down in a chair, face white as chalk.

Ten very stressful minutes passed and then Jax headed their way, unhurried, his strut lacking some of its swagger.

"It's a'ight," he said the moment the door was cracked.

"Did that come from the clubhouse?" Gemma demanded.

He shook his head. "You don't wanna know."

"Who…?" Maggie asked.

"Everyone's fine," is all he would say. He opened the door wider and nodded towards the clubhouse. "Maggie, you and the kid come with me."

***

The worst part about fucking up was apologizing for it. Chibs sat at one of the clubhouse tables and hated the looks he was getting from his girls. Yelling at Maggie earlier had felt necessary. He had known that she'd never go into wit pro like Fi, so driving her into retreat was the best option out of a very shitty list.

He told them about Stahl and her RICO wet dreams, about deciding to cooperate because he hated Jimmy so much that his decisions got tainted. He left out the parts about feeling strangled, about how the thought of losing everyone he'd ever loved all in one fell swoop left him breathless. That he'd always hoped that one day the Irish shit would be inconsequential and he and Maggie could be together again.

"You should have just told me," Maggie said when he was finished. The look on her face made him sick. "I've always told you everything about me, and I know nothing about you. After all this time. You should have told me."

His mouth didn't seem able to work as she left the table and went to the bar. He watched her pour a drink and disappear down the back hall.

Across the table, Ava looked very grown up and cynical.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he told her. "I wish I could make it different."

She snorted. "Mom's spent my whole life telling me how amazing you are. And you know why? Because she believes it. Me, I've always been a little skeptical….but Mom's always loved you. You didn't hurt me, you hurt her."

He pushed back from the table, shocked at the girl's awareness. "Ava -,"

"Man up, Dad. You want us safe, then protect us. Don't pimp us out to Hap's crew."

Chibs was too shocked to respond. She fetched a Coke from the fridge and then plopped on the sofa, remote in hand, next to Half-Sack. He watched as they struck up a conversation that instantly had Ava smiling and the Prospect blushing, and wondered what in the fuck had just happened.

Eventually though, he rose and headed in Maggie's direction. Apparently, he needed to man up.

***

Maggie stared at the tumbler of gin in her hand and knew that two nights in a row was pushing the envelope. But the parade of long, confusing, painful days just wouldn't end. Her goal of stepping up as the hard bitch had not been met and she felt like a failure. Thinking about the tone of Gemma's voice when she'd told her about Chibs, and then the coldness in his eyes…she didn't know if they could ever get back to where they'd started. The whole day had come and gone and they still hadn't talked. Now she sat on the desk in his dorm, face-to-face with another night of drinking.

She heard the door open and didn't look up, assuming it was Ava.

"Hey," Chibs' voice snapped her head around. He was braced in the doorway and looked tired, pronounced circles under his eyes standing out against his pale face. He'd lost a lot of color in the hospital and Maggie knew that he really wasn't ready to be up and around yet.

"Hey," she returned with a sigh. She reverted her gaze to her glass and heard him close the door, the scrape of his boot heels across the hardwood as he came towards her. The rings on his right hand flared gold in the light of the desk lamp as he pulled the gin from her hand.

"I'm drinking that-,"

"No," he said firmly. He set the drink aside and then settled in the chair before her, hands on her knees. Anger at the loss of her gin faded when she stared down into his face. She'd only ever seen him like this once – utterly defeated and out of steam – and that had been the night of her attack, when he'd lost some of his cool at the hospital all those years ago. "I said we were gonna talk and I mean it, luv."

Maggie felt drained. She wanted to be pissed, self-righteous and impassioned for this conversation, but all she felt was tired. And a little indifferent. His hands were warm on her legs and all she wanted to do was curl up on the bed, bury her face in his throat and sleep. But she couldn't do that. Might never be able to. Because there was this thing hanging between them that would either break them apart for good, or bind them more strongly.

"Chibs -,"

"Tell me," he prodded. "Tell me everything that makes you mad."

She chuckled hollowly. "Where do I start? You're married. You have a kid. You never told me and somehow convinced my cousins that they shouldn't tell me either. You've lied and made deals with ATF and tried to shove me away…it's too much, Chibs."

He sighed and spread his fingers, moving his hands up her thighs. "I'm sorry for all that. You know I am."

She stopped him, slapping her palms down over his. "No! You can't sex your way out of this one. I'm not a dumb kid anymore."

"I know, sweetheart -,"

"Start talking or I'm outta here. Period."

Chibs locked onto her stare and took a deep breath. "After Maggie – my other Maggie died, I went a little nuts. I was in the service when I got tangled with the IRA. They did things my way and I needed a cause…I joined on."

"Fiona," Maggie said levelly, wanting to get to the point.

He never broke eye contact and the intensity was enough to make her twitch. "Jimmy O'Phelan's whore. She was third generation, in deep, and I was a rookie and too fucked up in the head to see what was going on. Kerianne wasn't supposed to happen, and by the time Jimmy knew, Fi wouldn't dream of getting rid of her, but he had to get rid of me. He had his hooks in me good, knew I'd never betray The Cause."

"Did you love her?" Maggie whispered, then held her breath.

He sighed. "I thought I did…for a time. I don't want to hold her at gun point if that's what you mean," his look was accusatory for the briefest of seconds ",but I'm not in love with her. I don't think I ever was."

Maggie nodded and closed her eyes. It hurt to talk about this. Hurt bad.

"Fi's cold and hard. Smart in a mean way. The only thing she's passionate about is Ireland."

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

He squeezed her thighs. "I didn't want to hurt you, luv."

"You mean you didn't think we'd ever actually be together, so why bother, right?"

"Christ, Maggie…" he hung his head and Maggie saw it; the healing scar from the explosion that wasn't yet recovered with hair. Her hands started shaking. "Do you think we'd be here now if I thought that? Do you think I'd come up to Seattle if I didn't give a shit?"

His head snapped up, clearly pissed. "I don't have a bitch seat on my bike, Maggie! I don't have my own house…Jesus, I've been waiting for fourteen fuckin' years! If you can't see…fuck it, I dunno."

Chibs started to move and Maggie gripped his wrists, however insubstantially. Her chest was tight, breaths shallow. All the bad shit was boiling up to the surface, ready to spill over. "_You've _been waiting?! The only action I ever see is a piece of vibrating plastic!" He recoiled slightly. "You're down here with your boys and your Crow Eaters and I know all that, damnit. I know the club, I know what goes on…but this isn't fair. I never wanted to move to Seattle, I never wanted to leave you behind."

She felt the tears come and couldn't stop them. Her voice cracked and she pushed through. "When Gemma called…God, I thought you were dead, Chibs! And I didn't know what I was gonna do. I miss this town, miss my family…I've got this amazing little girl who looks just like you…" she choked on a sob and hated that there was so much sadness in his face. "I've tried to be strong for so long, and I don't know if I can do this anymore. I just…shit…I can't…"

Strong hands locked around her waist and he pulled her down to straddle his lap before she could protest. Through her meltdown, she could smell the smoke and leather of his cut, feel the warmth and size of his body.

"I know, baby," he said, voice all gravel. He put a hand on the back of her head and Maggie let him pull her to him, caved and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her hand slipped into his hair and her fingers grazed the wound. Her tears spiked afresh. "Chibs, Jesus…"

"It's okay," he assured, even though it wasn't.

He pushed her back and now just inches apart, staring into his face, Maggie felt like her decision was already made. His eyes were on her mouth and she could feel his heart beating under her hand.

"I miss you," he said. "When you're not here, I really do miss you."

"Do…do you love me?"

He frowned slightly. "You're my Ol' Lady. 'Course I do."

Maggie initiated the kiss, and it was tentative at first. But when their lips met, all the remembered good parts of the past came bubbling up and far outshined the bad. Chibs' hand tangled in her hair and pulled her in, deepening the kiss.

Fuck Fiona. Chibs sure didn't have her in his lap at the moment. Fuck her.

The old hunger, the need she'd felt on the curb outside of the Hairy Dog in 1994, the way her heart had stuttered that first morning after when he'd come in the office, all those times he'd been tough but gentle, such a man but so tender with her…all of it came crashing back. This wasn't Tig or Happy or some wet dream, this was her Scotty dog. And she was so fucking crazy about him that it hurt sometimes. Maggie leaned into him, parting her lips for his tongue, swept her hands down low and stroked him through his jeans.

They made it to the bed somehow and clothes were all but ripped off. When Maggie was naked beneath him, thirty-six and not the girl he'd known before, she had a momentary rush of self-consciousness. But he kissed his way down her throat to her breasts and she didn't have to wonder long what he thought of her body.

The sex felt heavy, like they were sharing not just pleasure, but pain as well. They didn't speak, didn't have to. Their bodies had changed outwardly but the feel of him inside her, big and hard, stretching, filling her up was just as delicious as the memory. Maggie dug her nails into his shoulders and lifted her hips to meet his rhythm.

Once didn't feel like enough, but when they were finished, Chibs rolled over and kept her flush against his chest. Maggie felt reclaimed, SAMCRO property with a wicked mark on her left breast to prove it. She propped up on her elbows, satisfied but still energized to go again, and traced his scars with a thumb.

He didn't smile. His eyes were intense. "The club's gonna be okay, luv. I swear to you. This shit won't last forever."

Maggie moved her hand to outline the pattern of the tat on his chest. "Are _we_ gonna be okay?" she whispered.

"I hope so."

She laid her cheek against his skin and sighed. "Yeah."

**TBC**


	14. Trying to Stop Your Leaving

Thanks to my amazing, regular reviewers. And all you lurkers out there...yes, I can see you...glad you're reading:)

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**Chapter 14: Trying to Stop Your Leaving**

The sound of the shower woke Chibs. The main water line ran directly beneath the floorboards of his dorm and the pipes rattled and thumped each time anyone in the clubhouse so much as flushed a toilet. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he could hear the faint cascade of the water against the vinyl shower curtain and flopped a hand onto the mattress beside him to check anyway. Yep, Maggie was gone.

There had been a certain reservation about her the night before. She'd wanted him, but she'd seemed sad, almost resolute. Didn't grin or tease. She'd been very clinical and serious about the whole thing. There had been physical pleasure, but no heat. It had been the worst sex they'd ever had together. Which still wasn't that bad considering, but not great.

He fired up his morning cigarette and went in search of fresh clothes. Climbing into the shower with her didn't seem like the best idea and that bothered him. There'd been a time – well, a long time ago – when he'd never had to worry about how she'd receive him. But he'd gone and fucked that all up, hadn't he?

Chibs found a clean under shirt and not-so-clean jeans. Boots and belt, dark overshirt, and…he was reaching for his wallet on the desk when he noted one of his little bone-handled knives sitting beside Maggie's cell phone. He palmed the weapon and slid it a half a breath from its sheath, thankful it was still clean. This knife and its mate had come from Scotland with him and he didn't feel like losing them. Where was the other one?

"I borrowed those," Maggie's voice issued from the bathroom door and he turned to find her wrapped in a towel in the doorway, sopping hair pulled over one shoulder. He hadn't noticed the water shut off.

"When?"

She folded her arms, tightening the towel over her breasts defensively. "After our first run-in with Fiona. Ava's got the other."

"And you were gonna _stab _her?"

"No, I was gonna defend myself and my daughter."

Chibs sighed. In any other circumstance, he would have encouraged this she-wolf behavior. He knew Gemma and the doc carried. Women around the club had to be able to handle their firepower in situations where their physical strength could get them killed.

But Maggie couldn't go after Fi. Not with Kerianne running around fifteen and in need of a mother. Explaining that just stood to land him in more hot water. So he sighed again and set the knife down.

"Keep it clean," he instructed.

Maggie nodded. Standing in the shaft of incoming morning light, without makeup, she looked less like her cousin than she normally did. Chibs had always thought the family resemblance was strongest in those high cheekbones, but her face seemed smaller and rounder without blush. More fragile almost, or younger maybe. He wasn't sure. She seemed a shadow of her normal self. But her eyes stood out, bright as hazel lamps. Her hair was darker wet. Her skin pale from the sunless Seattle skies.

He studied her until she tilted her head in question, and it was then that he realized the problem. He had seen her so infrequently over the years that the subtle changes of age and stress stood out as very obvious to him. Had he been with her all that time, the gradual differences would have blended and been unnoticed. It was the same thing he'd worried about when he'd seen her at the diner a few months before; that she'd be shocked by how different he was.

But she'd been as charming as ever then. And she'd been happy and vibrant, very alive…very not how she looked now.

An unhappy thought struck him. _He _was the reason she seemed so washed out. The stress of dealing with Jimmy and Fiona, of holding onto Gemma's secret, of protecting their daughter alone…holy shit. How was she even still standing?

"I know I look like shit," she sighed, retreating into the bathroom.

He wanted to follow her, but wasn't sure if it would do any good. He'd tried the night before, he really had. And he'd thought that being with her would absolve some of her anger.

Ava's words came back to him. _"You hurt her…you want us safe, then protect us."_

Damnit, why did kids have to be such insightful little pains in the ass?

Chibs went to his top dresser drawer and sorted through socks and boxers until he found what he was looking for and slipped it in his pocket, ground out his smoke. Then he went to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to watch her through the mirror. Maggie stood in front of his dinky pedestal sink combing out her hair and wincing when she hit a snarl. The look she returned was blank, but in his mind, he remembered her twenty-two and standing in front of this same mirror, combing out her hair and wincing. Back then, she'd catch his gaze and smile, or blow him a kiss. Time to get back to that. One woman had turned cold on him and he didn't want a repeat of that.

***

Maggie had thought that things would feel different that morning, that she'd be soaring on a Chibs high. But when she'd rolled over and seen him sleeping beside her, the pit had opened up in her stomach again. He had essentially told her that he loved her, that he missed her, but somehow, in light of all that had transpired, it didn't seem like enough. Not nearly enough.

She'd taken a shower, the whole time replaying the sex in her head. It had been this frantic, weighty relief of emotions. They'd been sad and hurting and lonely, unsure of how to get back to just being them, and in retrospect, it felt like a drunken hookup with a friend.

His vague mention of getting past things had referred to the club, not to them. And nothing felt fixed now. She stood in front of the mirror, ripping the brush through her hair and staring at the little lines on her face. At the dark circles under her eyes. She'd been in this bathroom a hundred times before and now she wanted to get out of it before the walls closed in. She wasn't young and happy, waiting on her hero to come sneaking in and push her back against the sink. No, those days were over. The Chibs that had come back from that explosion was not the warrior she'd known. He wasn't going to protect her, keep her, just make half-assed mentions of better days.

The good old days were gone, dead as hell. And they could have broken hearted sex all they wanted, but things would never be okay so long as Jimmy O. held the puppet strings.

Maggie flitted her eyes to the empty space beside her reflection and saw Chibs in the doorway. For the first time in her memory, she just wanted him to go away. She felt old, terribly unsexy, and not in the mood for anymore trying.

***

Chibs stepped fully into the room and maneuvered in behind her. He put his hands on her towel-covered hips at first, then caved and slid both arms around her waist.

"Chibs," she protested with a sigh, setting her brush down. "I'm trying to get ready. C'mon."

"That can wait," he said against the top of her head. He inhaled and her shampoo smelled amazing; coconut.

"Really," she tried to pry his arms away. "Ava's probably -,"

He reached up and pulled out the knot in her towel with one quick jerk, the damp terry cloth sliding down her body to the floor.

She gasped and he glanced up to the mirror again. She was gorgeous; that perfect hourglass shape, her ample hips the same width as her shoulders. Her tits had always been fantastic, large and natural, still winning the battle against gravity. When she was younger, she'd been downright wiry, but was soft and feminine now. A full grown woman in her prime.

Maggie moved to cover herself and he grabbed both her wrists. "No, darlin'. Just be still a minute."

"Chibs, just stop," she whispered. Her voice was still full of all the damage it had dripped the night before. Half-hearted make up sex hadn't fixed things. She squirmed against his hold and it just brought her naked ass against the front of his jeans.

He moved her hands to the small of her back and held them together with one of his, moving the other around to palm the span of her belly. Goose bumps erupted beneath his touch as he traced his thumb across her faint c-section scar. "That'd be my fault," he said, not expecting his voice to sound so rough. He looked forward over her shoulder so they were eye to eye through the mirror.

Chibs didn't know what to make of her face, of the tautness in her cheeks. She was either turned on…or mad as hell. She strained upward, spine arching, and both pushed back harder against him and thrust her chest forward so that her breasts bounced just the tiniest bit. Chibs went from half-mast to fully erect in a heartbeat.

Maggie said nothing but he saw her eyes follow the path of his free hand as he moved up her stomach, feathering a light caress up to her open-heart scar that ran vertically between her breasts. It was just a light streak of pink, much neater than her cousin's. And like her other scar, he was responsible for this one as well. Her chest pumped in time with the pulse he felt on the surface of her skin as he drew a lazy finger back down the line.

"My face," he said quietly, catching her gaze in the glass. "Those are my own doing. But you…those are on me."

He hadn't realized that she was straining against his hold until she relaxed. She almost seemed to rest against him.

"It's just bad genetics," Maggie said. "Nobody's fault."

Chibs knew she didn't want to argue with him, but this was his test. His chance to prove what even his daughter had been able to see was missing. He released her hands slowly and she didn't move. "Your whole life got fucked up 'cause of me, sweetheart. And that ain't right."

"Don't give yourself too much credit," she quipped. "I'm fine, Ava's fine, we're all -,"

"Don't gimme that _fine _bullshit. We're not fine. _Nobody's _fine."

In a fast move, Maggie knelt and retrieved the towel, hugging it to her chest as she stood and turned. Chibs blocked her before she could make a break for the door. He caught her wrists again and cranked his grip down, hard enough to get a hiss from her and insistent enough that she retreated a step. He followed, pushed into her space and backed her up against the sink until she was totally boxed in.

Her eyes were wide, but she didn't resist this time, just stared up at him like she'd rather be anywhere else. God…she was so messed up, way worse than he'd originally thought. Chibs pressed in close until it was almost uncomfortable. She was breathing hard, like a train he couldn't seem to catch up with.

"I let you down a long time ago, luv, you and the girl. It's embarrassing."

Her pale brows lifted in question.

"I've been a pussy and I'm done with it."

Maggie huffed out a disbelieving breath.

Chibs let go of her wrists and reached to scrape the damp, clinging tendrils of hair back from her face. Her lips came apart slightly, eyelids fluttering at the gentle contact. He pressed his body into hers, close enough that she could clearly feel the bulge in his jeans and he felt her soften, could feel some of the tension leave her body. Chibs leaned in and his lips were at the corner of her mouth when he spoke.

"Jimmy's tried to kill me before and it never worked. He _can't _get to me. And no fucking Irishman is coming near my family again. I'll tear their goddamn heads off."

At the sound of _family_, Maggie shivered all over and moved against him. He felt her hips against his own, knowing she was naked making him want to just bend her over the sink ledge. He curled his fingers into her hair and pulled down, lifting her face, exposing her throat. The color was coming back to her cheeks, spots of pink blossoming. The desperation was still there, just further beneath the surface than before. She'd always loved to fuck…he just had to get her back to wanting it to be him.

"When all this blows over," he continued ",you're staying here with me, both of you. I want my woman in my bed, and in the shower, and wherever the fuck else and I'll kill every fucker that gets in the way of that."

Maggie's hands went to the front of his shirt and curled into fists in the fabric. Her respiration was even more hectic now, her breasts rising and falling against his chest. "Say that again," she said. Her voice sounded different, deeper and stronger.

Chibs kept one hand in her hair and let the other slide down her bare back, pulling her away from the sink and into him. He met her eyes and felt the old fight surge through his veins; the adrenaline rush that came right before each match. "I'll kill 'em all. Every goddamn one of 'em."

***

Maggie felt the wetness between her legs. She shivered as he told her that he would kill. She pictured him in the ring, shirtless and sweaty, pounding the shit out of Tig, out of a Nord…she closed her eyes and saw Jimmy at the other end of his punches. The chill was replaced with a fast wash of heat.

"You'll kill Jimmy?" she asked, not recognizing her own voice.

"Slowly," he growled against her ear. "You won't get hurt again, not by anyone. I won't let it happen."

Maggie went boneless. There were tears behind her eyes, happy ones, but she refused to let them fall. This was perfect, just too perfect for her to ruin with crying. She'd taken comfort in him the night before, all her worry and pain driving their interactions. But this was different; this was cage fighter Chibs all ready to bash heads.

When he kissed her it was hard, possessive and demanding. He needed to prove himself to her…and she needed to let him.

He backed her against the door frame and she didn't care that the ridges in the wood were hard against her back. Chibs kissed her and fondled her breasts, rolled her already straining nipples into even tighter buds. His knee parted her legs and moved upward until it contacted the hot, wet part of her that just begged to be touch. She moaned into the kiss and his hands slid down to her hips.

Maggie was on fire, completely overcome by the smell, feel and taste of him. And then he got down on his knees.

***

Ava poured her Sprite into a glass slowly, head resting on the bar, transfixed by the cascade and tumble of bubbles, the effervescent pings and drops that splashed over the ice.

Neither Maggie not Chibs had reappeared the night before and that meant one of two things; they'd killed each other, or…she didn't like to think about the other in reference to her parents. Now it was 9:30 and still no Mom and Dad. She had rustled up a nutritious breakfast of Pringles and soda in the clubhouse kitchen and now waited, alone, for the rest of the biker world to come alive.

She was setting the empty can down on the bar when she heard footfalls in the hallway. Ava glanced up and then her heart rate spiked when she saw Happy enter the common room.

The Nomad froze for a moment, face unreadable, eyes dark, then shook himself loose and kept walking as if nothing were wrong. Ava's pulse thundered in her ears, cheeks flushing with anger and embarrassment. She watched as Hap made his way toward the kitchen and couldn't take it. She abandoned her food and left, walking as fast as she could without running towards the door. Happy called her once and she ignored him, pushing out into the morning light.

She almost made it to the picnic table – her go-to place for hiding out these days – when the door opened with a squeal behind her.

"Hold up, kid," Happy said and the urge to cry was as instant and painful as an elbow to the gut.

Ava hugged her arms around her middle and climbed onto the table, her feet resting on the bench. She stared at the toes of her black All-Stars and tried to ignore the clomp of his approaching footfalls. _Go away, go away, go away…_

"Ava, look at me."

She hated that it always thrilled her when he said her name. She turned her head to the side and met his concerned stare.

"Do you wanna…shit, I dunno, talk about this?"

"No," Ava looked away again, shaking her head emphatically. "I just wanna go home, get the hell out of this place."

Happy sighed and then he sat beside her, close enough that she could smell his laundry detergent, could feel the warmth radiating off his body. And she was furious because she didn't understand how she could be so angry with him, and ache because he wasn't close enough.

"You know I don't like this talking shit," Hap grumbled with another sigh. "And you're a smart kid, you know how the club works."

_Yeah, you all have sex with sluts…_

"But there's only been two women in my life I ever gave a shit about."

Curiosity got the best of her and Ava risked a sideway glance.

Hap held up one finger. "Mom." And then lifted a second. "You."

"But -," Ava started to protest.

He shook his head. "I'd take a bullet for you, kid. But you're thirteen, and you need to _be _thirteen." His voice was hard and his face not quite smiling, but somehow the words were soft. "Don't chase old dirty bastards, sweetheart. Be a kid. Deal with that shit later."

She was devastated. It didn't matter that it was true or that it was touching that he ranked her up there with Mama Happy…he had confirmed that she was just a kid. And he cared about her as a kid, not as a woman.

Ava started to get up and he put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. "Your mom's a lot of things, but a problem solver ain't one of 'em. Don't be like her. Don't run."

She swiped at her eyes and let Happy hug her against him. Funny, when she pictured this moment in her head, she hadn't thought she'd be fighting back tears.

***

"Ow…shit!" Maggie laughed, actually laughed, and smiled. Her lips spread over white teeth and her grin was brilliant as she rubbed at the back of her head where she'd crowned herself against the mirror. Then the expression melted into one of satisfaction as Chibs pushed her thighs even further apart on the edge of the sink and drove into her hard.

"Yeah. Yeah, shit, that's good," she murmured. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the mirror. She tilted her hips for him and then braced her hands on either side of the sink. Maggie did all the receiving, letting her body absorb the force of his thrusts, let him be the man and take total control.

All the heady, emotional bullshit of the night before was gone, replaced by the sweet little sounds she made as he pumped inside her. By the sight of her offering herself up, her tits swaying with the tempo, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. He spread her legs further and penetrated even deeper

She came with a muttered "Jesus Christ" and then so did he. Maggie moved her hands to his shoulders and leaned on him while they waited out the aftershocks.

When her breathing had settled, Maggie smiled again and it did wonderful things to her face. Her eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed. She kissed one of the scars on his cheek and then licked her tongue up its length. "This is nice," she purred. "Shame I have to head back up north -,"

"Like hell," he cut her off and her smile turned devilish.

"So I'm what, just supposed to stay in Charming?"

"Or I'll lock you in the fuckin' closet."

She kissed him on the mouth, lips moving lazily against his. Tired and satisfied. "Welcome back," she whispered when she pulled away. "I missed my street thug."

"Aye. Me too."

Another moment passed in comfortable silence, both of them still reigning in their breathing, and then Chibs remembered why he'd originally come in after her. "Here," he said, fishing the little switchblade knife from his pocket.

"What?" she asked. Her voice was almost dreamy.

He took one of her hands in both of his and placed the knife in it. "Take this…as backup. If someone gets hold of your other knife, this'll do."

She stared down at the switchblade and positively beamed.

"It should fit in your pocket -,"

"I love you, baby," she breathed, kissing him again.

"You better. Now you've got both my favorite knives."

**TBC**


	15. Before the Storm

AN: I apologize for all the train metaphors…I've been on a Dierks Bentley kick lately. This is another light chap, just to warn. Not too exciting.

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**Chapter 15: Before the Storm**

When Clay woke that morning, he was immediately struck by the absence of all the things that had become commonplace in the past two months. No smell of just-brewed coffee wafting up the stairs, no clinking or shuffling down in the kitchen. There weren't clothes tumbling around in the dryer; buttons and zippers scraping against the metal drum of the Maytag. The TV didn't rumble. The cockatoo was silent in its cage. And for the first time in what felt like forever, his wife was still asleep beside him.

He wasn't a man who put stock in omens or signs. He only believed in what he could see and touch – the problem, deal, or scenario at hand. But this morning felt different. Meaningful.

The club had seen so much shit and every last one of them had been touched by some sort of heartache. ATF. Zobelle. Irish. They were all bloody and torn. But it felt like the first stitches had been sewn in, like there was a mending coming.

Something else was coming too, bearing down on Charming like an out of control freight train. A reckoning. A revenge that was going to be so sweet. And it would start today…just as soon as he could make himself climb out of bed and away from Gemma, it was coming.

***

"Abel is up, fed and changed," Tara said as she settled on the edge of the bed.

From his position leaned back on the pillows, Jax grinned when he realized that his woman was not only dressed and pressed, but had a steaming coffee mug in each hand. "You've been busy then," he said as he accepted one and took a sip.

She nodded. Tara wasn't so much smiling as her face just seemed lit up. Maybe it was his imagination or the light seeping through the blinds behind her, but there was a strength about her this morning.

Her grin was slow. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just…enjoying the calm while it lasts."

"You guys haven't decided yet," she said knowingly ",about what to do for your mom."

"We know _what_," he sighed, smile slipping. "But not how. I'm gonna head to the clubhouse, see if Clay wants a sit-down."

"We'll come with you. Say 'hi' to Grandma." She feathered a caress across his pec and down his ribbed stomach. "That okay?"

"Always."

***

It was after eleven when Maggie stepped into the common room. She'd had to take another shower and didn't mind a bit, this time combing and drying her hair with a sleepy smile on her face. She had this renewed confidence in her body, in the way her black Henley hugged her frame and gapped at the buttons. She stood a little straighter, accentuated her walk a little more. She had left Chibs to shave and clean up and couldn't wipe away her grin if she tried. This was the high she'd been after; it felt like she'd chased a muscle relaxer with tequila but was thinking so clearly it was startling. Her Scotty dog was back and he was _good. _

Ava, Happy, Juice and the Prospect looked like the most unlikely Rockwell painting all at the bar, each with a bowl, milk and Cheerios set out, cereal scattered everywhere.

"Hey, kids," Maggie greeted, sidling up to the end stool beside Kip. Ava gave her a blank look, but each of the boys had some version of a smirk plastered across their faces.

Hap was the only one brave enough to speak. "Sleep well?"

She returned his evil smile. "That'd be a no." She headed around the bar and heard the low chuckles and the grumbling voice of her daughter. Maggie pulled her kid back against her chest, an embrace Ava tried to disengage. "Nope, Mom's get to hug their kids," she said lightly. She kissed the top of her brunette head and then went to the empty stool beside Juice.

Maggie noticed him swallow his laughter as soon as she was settled. _Still new enough to be scared _she thought to herself with a grin. She decided to mess with him. "Juice, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Oh, this was rich. "Go get me a bowl, kiddo."

"Um…"he looked to Hap for help and earned a glare. "'Kay," he sighed, sliding off his stool.

He tromped towards the kitchen and Happy turned his gaze to her. "You enjoying this?"

Maggie couldn't hide her perma-smile as she grabbed for the Cheerios box. "Enjoying what?"

"Acting like the Queen's second in command."

"You know it."

***

Chibs was tired in a wonderful sort of way, muscles now thoroughly relaxed after a hot shower. And now he was on a mission to talk to the boys. His promises to Maggie couldn't be empty, not anymore, and he needed his brothers to help him with that.

He was surprised to find his girls sitting with Hap, Juice and Half-Sack at the bar. He paused for a moment, amused at the picture they made, and all three Sons glanced up to shoot him some sort of grin. Ava studied her cereal. And when Maggie smiled at him smugly, it made him want to drag her back down the hall to his room.

He was deprived of that opportunity when Clay and Gemma, Jax and Tara entered the clubhouse. Clay had his game face on. "Chapel in twenty," he announced. "Round everybody up."

***

The women all moved to a table once the chapel doors were shut; Maggie, Ava, Gemma, and Tara with Abel in her lap. Maggie looked across at her cousin and was shocked by the difference in her. The harsh lines of tension were smoothed out around her eyes and mouth, lips almost but not quite smiling.

Maggie felt her own smile tugging to get loose. "Did you-," she started.

"You look like -," Gemma said at the exact same moment.

They both paused and grinned. "Get laid?" they asked in unison.

Tara was looking between them like they were insane. "You guys are freaky," she muttered.

Ava shook her head. "More like _gross_! I don't wanna hear this."

Maggie chuckled. "Where do you think you came from, huh?"

The girl pulled a disgusted face.

"You two get everything worked out?" Gemma questioned as she rifled through her purse for a smoke.

Maggie nodded. "For the most part." She decided against bringing up the potential move to Charming, at least not without telling Ava first. She had a feeling that was going to be a major point of contention with the girl.

"Good. 'Cause I'll tell you girls this, things around here are about to get crazy."

"How much crazier could they get?" Tara asked with a snort.

Maggie gave her a heavy look. "You weren't around in '93, were you?"

"No…" the doc looked between the two older women.

"Around the time John died," Gemma said, pausing to take a quick drag on her cigarette ",shit with the Mayans got rough."

"We had a hard couple of days on lockdown," Maggie said.

"And this," Gemma nodded toward the chapel. "This is a whole new kind of shit."

***

Jax studied each and every face around the redwood table. Bobby with his cigarette. Juice sporting a fresh mohawk. Piney and Opie were solemn bookends. Chibs looked tired and had a hickey at the base of his throat. Tig's face still looked like roadkill. And Clay who he'd spent every moment of the last few weeks defying. It was amazing the difference a day made.

Clay took a deep breath and braced his hands on the table, doing the same look-around the VP had just conducted. Everyone seemed to be sizing one another up, weighing each man's potential to bring his A game. "Here's what it looks like," the President began. "The Irish are willing to deal _if _we can set aside all personal differences."

Jax glanced over at Chibs and caught his twitch.

"Tell your Old Lady no more Demolition Derby with Jimmy's guys," Clay said sternly. No one laughed, but Tig grinned. "And we got that ATF cunt circling around like a goddamn vulture, so when the shit goes down, we gotta be smart about it."

"Where's PD with all this?" Bobby asked.

"Unser's on board," Jax answered. "And I think we might be able to keep Hale off our backs…he knows about Mom."

Clay nodded. "Which brings us to our real issue." He leaned forward in his chair and his gaze turned to stone. "Zobelle and Weston don't get out of this alive."

There were nods all around.

"I'm pulling in all the charters we can get on such short notice. In two days, we go on full lockdown. _Nobody _associated with this club is gonna get caught in the crossfire."

"I'll make the calls," Juice said.

"Hap, you pull some of your Nomads in?" Clay asked.

The killer nodded. "Oh yeah."

The particulars were detailed and then Clay ended the meet with a resounding thump of the gavel and an admonition that everybody better have his ass at the house for a long overdue family dinner that night. Jax stayed in his chair and caught Chibs' eye. The Scotsman moved to Tig's chair and joined Clay and Jax once the others had filed out.

The double doors clicked shut and then Jax fixed his brother with a worried look. "How you doin', man?"

He shrugged. "I'm alright."

Clay waved at his own neck and grinned. "I take it things are better with the little woman."

"Yeah," Chibs grinned marginally. "We'll see how she holds up with all this other shit."

"Maggie's tough," Jax said. "She's been around the club a long time, she can hang."

"Aye…I told her I wanted her to stay. After this shit blows over, I want them both back in Charming."

Clay sighed. "Apparently we all had our heads so far up our asses we missed all her soap opera shit with the Irish. How bad is it? We gotta have guns…but I'll go to the Chinese if I have to. Nobody's fucking with this family anymore."

Chibs shook his head. "That fucker went after her, if it weren't for Happy…Christ, I dunno."

"Shit," Jax muttered ",we gotta take this to Jimmy, Clay, confront him. What happened to Mom, we don't need -,"

"I know," Clay interrupted with a sigh. "I know." He looked between Jax and Chibs. "Maggie's the deal breaker with the shamrocks. And, Chibs, you want 'em here, they're staying. End of story. We'll make it happen."

Jax nodded emphatically. "Absolutely, bro."

Chibs smiled, but it was hollow, like he didn't believe it would all work out yet. "Thanks, boys."

"Alright," Clay slapped the table with an open palm. "I was serious about dinner. You both better be there with Old Ladies, kids and all. We need something good before it all goes down."

***

"He asked you to stay, didn't he?" Gemma said quietly as they ambled their way down the canned goods aisle of the market.

Maggie watched Tara and Ava walking and chatting a ways ahead of them and kept her voice low. "Not so much asked as laid down the law." She grinned. "Terribly hot when they do that, huh?"

Gemma snorted. "Yeah. Question is, are you gonna listen?"

Maggie sighed and drug the toes of her boots across the tile, slowing their pace further. "I haven't mentioned it to Ava yet. It's hard…a few hours and a little nookie changes your mind about things…but it's not that easy with a kid. You have to actually explain things, bargain and shit."

"She's a smart girl," Gemma agreed. "Good for her, but I don't envy you."

"I always thought we wouldn't have an issue over the club. She loves the Tacoma guys, but Chibs…"

"Hasn't been around enough. You two staying in town will give them a chance to reconnect."

"Ugh. Telling her ain't gonna be fun."

Gemma smirked. "As bad as telling your mother?"

"Mom's given up on the Chibs issue." She grinned. "She's gonna be pissed about her grandbaby moving, but it's not like she'll come chasing after us."

Gemma paused and added a can of sliced peaches to her basket. "Don't be so sure about that, sweetheart."

"Yeah," Maggie sighed.

The Queen turned and gave her a small smile. "But I'm glad you're back, baby. I need another woman around here with her head on straight."

"You've got Tara," Maggie said innocently.

"That one's still in training," she said with an eye roll.

***

"I'm supposed to make dessert, but I'll admit I'm no chef," Tara said as they rounded the corner to the next aisle. "What do you think, store bought cake too cheap?"

Ava scanned the display of Entenmann's and frowned. "I dunno…these always look better than they taste. Mom and I usually do the slice and bake cookie thing at home." She offered Tara a smile. "She's no Emeril either."

The doc grinned marginally. "You and your mom…you're pretty close, huh?"

"Most of the time. Past few weeks have been rough."

Tara nodded.

"My teachers have all called, worried I won't be able to finish the year. It's just…I don't know what she's thinking most of the time."

"Do you think your parents will get back together?"

"They've never really been apart. And as long as we've been here…I don't think she'll want to leave," she sighed. "I so don't want to move."

They walked in silence for a beat, headed for the coolers in the back of the store to pick out cookies. "You know, Ava," Tara said slowly. "I was around back when…you know…when your mom and dad were together."

"And what, they're made for each other?" Ava's tone dripped sarcasm.

Tara sighed. "Sometimes people love each other, but the timing isn't right. I think they deserve a second chance."

"Like you?"

Ava glanced sideways and thought the doc squirmed a little under the scrutiny. "Yeah," she sniffed. "Like me."

"You know, you may be a great doctor, but you're a sucky guidance councilor."

Tara started to protest and then shook her head. "Yeah. I know."

***

Chibs had a shit ton of stuff he was supposed to be doing, but instead found himself sitting sideways on his bike in the T-M parking lot, smoking and staring at nothing. He was sore. Sex with Maggie was always much more of a participative experience than getting a blow job from a Crow Eater. And though he'd patched them up, could actually look at her and earn a smile now, there was still too much noise in his head.

Protecting his girls from Jimmy was going to be harder than he'd let on to Maggie. And then there was Fiona and Kerianne to worry about. And the possible fallout from not signing on with Stahl.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice he had company until Opie was straddling his own bike beside him. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Chibs shook himself loose and nodded. "Aye."

Opie started to snap on his helmet and paused. He took a deep breath. "Nobody blames you," he said, and Chibs snapped his head up, frowning. "Going to Stahl…we all do stupid shit sometimes to protect our families."

"Don't gimme an out, kid. I knew better."

Opie shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if…" he sighed ", never mind. Look, nobody's gonna let anything happen to Maggie and your kid. What happened to Donna…that won't be anyone else's Old Lady."

They stared at each other a moment, each wondering how much the other knew about his unique situation. Chibs nodded finally. "Aye."

"See you at dinner later?"

"Yeah."

***

Dinner was flank steak with garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus, salad, some of Bobby's homemade bread, and whatever the hell Lyla brought that Maggie never got around to tasting. Things in the kitchen were quiet, far less tense than the last family dinner fiasco. Tara and the porn star spoke at intervals and it wasn't bitchy. Maggie had really wanted to dislike the younger woman, but the willowy blond was so far very amenable. Maggie couldn't like her yet because she hadn't proved herself to the club, but she didn't _not _like her.

"Where's your girl?" Gemma asked as she moved the steaks to the cutting board.

Maggie nodded toward the door. "With the guys." Instead of shouts and curses, the low rumble of voices issued from the living room.

The Queen pulled a knife from the butcher's block and started running it through the cooked meat, the smell heavenly. She glanced up at Maggie with a grave expression on her face. "You tell her yet? About moving?"

"Gem…" Maggie sighed and turned her attention to the potatoes.

"You're moving down here?" Lyla inquired. Maggie glanced over and found her face reserved, tentative almost. She was tossing the salad with slow, delicate movements, eyes wide like she was afraid she'd just made a mistake.

Maggie offered her a smile. "Yeah…well, probably. I haven't told my kid, and then there's all this other -,"

"Yes, she's moving," Gemma said firmly. "I'm tired of watching her man drown himself in sweetbutts."

Maggie shot her a fake smile. "Gee, thanks for the imagery, cuz."

She shrugged. "Whatever works."

Tara returned, crimpling an empty bag of Ruffles in her hands. "They're getting antsy and we're running out of snacks," she said as she trashed the bag.

"I think we're about ready," Gemma said, standing back to survey their spread. She nodded. "Go get 'em, doc."

***

"Hey." Ava was on her stomach on the living room floor, knees bent and feet in the air, and she felt someone kick lightly at her sneakers. "Feet down, kid, can't see the tube."

She twisted around to glance over her shoulder and saw that it was Tig who'd nudged her. She frowned, but lowered her feet. She was used to all the scary badness of the biker men in her life, but she didn't really know this blue-eyed creep too well yet, and she was not at all okay with the way he looked at her mother. Like he wanted to devour her.

"Why aren't you in there with the rest of the girls?" Clay asked her. His tone was light, but Ava got the distinct impression that was a hint for her to leave them alone with the boxing match on TV.

"I don't cook," she said, turning back to the screen. "And I'm tired of all this mother/daughter time I've had with Mom."

Someone chuckled – Jax, she realized when he spoke. "Yeah. I get that. Moms kinda…" she glanced over her shoulder again and he winked at her from the rocking chair ", run your life."

"And his mom is your mom's cousin, right?" Juice asked.

Ava nodded.

"So then I guess she's pretty cool, huh?" Kip asked.

She caught her father's eye and he twitched the smallest of smiles. She sighed. "She's my mom…so that kills some of the coolness…but she's okay." She grinned. "She said if I kept it discreet, she'd help me get inked when I turn sixteen."

"Sixteen?" Chibs sat forward. "Like hell -,"

"Dinner!" Tara called from the doorway, cutting him off.

"Saved by the doc, kid," Tig said as he stood. He nudged her in the ribs with his boot as he stepped over her. "Now outta my way 'fore I step on you."

***

Seated between Chibs and Ava, a beer in her hand, Maggie let her food get cold as she stared at the rest of the table's occupants. They were all still broken, all damaged from the atrocities of the past few weeks, but they were together. After a tortuous day at work, when she was curled up on the sofa with a drink, _this _was the SAMCRO she remembered. Not sexually assaulted Gemma, blown up Chibs, or sulky Opie…but everyone talking and laughing and eating. A real family.

She caught Jax's eye and he frowned. "You a'ight?"

Chibs nudged her as if to second the inquiry. Maggie grinned. Here, with all her boys, she knew she would stay. Seattle had never felt like home and this night confirmed it. Telling Ava was going to suck, but she was staying. Definitely.

"Yeah," she picked up her fork. "I'm great."

***

After dinner, the guys returned to the living room. Maggie was rinsing dishes and Tara was loading them in the dishwasher and she kept glancing over her shoulder so she could look at Ava. The girl was cross-legged on the floor in the adjoining room, leaned back against the sofa beside her father's feet. Their resemblance was almost spooky – the eyes, the nose. Ava's young face was a narrow oval, just as Chibs' had been years before. There wasn't so much as a hint of Lawson about her, which made Maggie's decision somehow easier.

"Oh, go on if you can't pay attention," Gemma grumbled lightly. She was scraping the leftovers into Tupperware and aimed her spoon at Maggie. "Go talk to her."

Maggie wiped her hands dry on her jeans as she headed for the living room. She propped a hip against the doorway and took a deep breath, holding it in until her lungs burned. Ava looked so at ease, not at all rebellious or angry. Maggie hated to spoil that. She exhaled slowly, heart already pounding in anticipation of their argument.

"Ava."

The girl's head snapped around.

"Come with me for a minute."

She frowned as she stood and tucked her hair behind her ears. Chibs mirrored her expression.

"It's fine," Maggie offered a thin smile. "We just need to talk about something."

Chibs returned his attention to the TV and Ava followed her back into the kitchen, not looking convinced. Maggie grabbed two of the cookies set out on the counter and led them up the back stairwell and down the hall to one of the guest rooms they'd used. It looked like Gemma had already changed the sheets, the microfiber comforter pulled tight over the bed, throw pillows arranged and tucked into a jumble worthy of a store display.

Maggie sat on the hope chest rather than wrinkle the bedclothes and offered up one of the cookies. "Here, spoon full of sugar helps the medicine and all that shit," she sighed, taking a bite of her own. She made a face.

Ava sat and took the cookie between thumb and forefinger delicately. "I snuck one earlier," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Tara wasn't kidding about being a crappy cook."

Maggie managed to swallow and then set the chocolate chip nightmare on the lid of the chest beside her. "Shit, that was awful."

"And I thought you weren't so hot in the kitchen."

"Watch it," Maggie elbowed her lightly and shot her a mock scowl.

Ava didn't laugh. She sighed. "Why'd you bring me up here, Mom? What's going on?"

Maggie sighed too. Her pulse quickened again as she debated the ways to approach the topic. Ava was very direct, so she decided maybe she should be too. She braced her hands on the polished mahogany and stared down at the toes of her boots. "Your Dad and I cleared the air last night."

"Is that your new code phrase or something?"

She glanced over and saw that the girl was grinning, if just barely. "No," she bit back her own smile. "We _did _actually talk…some."

"Mom, I don't wanna hear about that!"

"Okay, okay, let's be serious." Maggie sobered. For some reason, this was more nerve racking than talking to Chibs. "You remember how we talked a couple weeks ago about my move to Seattle? How I was attacked?"

Ava nodded, frowning.

"I went to Seattle because Dad's friend was an amazing heart surgeon, but I stayed because the Irish needed to think I was dead."

They had been over this before, that afternoon in Lumpy's, but the girl's stoicism still amazed her. Maggie inhaled and pressed on. "They know all about us now. And the guys…the guys say they can keep us safe."

Ava shook her head and stared fixedly at the wall. "I knew it," she muttered. "I knew you couldn't come back here –,"

"Hold up," Maggie said. "Try to not be a teenager for a minute."

The girl scowled.

"Since when is it a bad thing for your parents to, I dunno, actually live in the same town and get along?"

"It's not, it's just…" She huffed a sigh. "It's not fair! I was born in Seattle, I have friends, school…a life there. And you're gonna take all that away for one of Dad's bullshit promises?"

"It's not bullshit."

"Yes it is."

"Ava," Maggie snapped, losing patience. She raked her hair back and held it at the base of her neck, willing something, anything intelligent and parent-like to come out of her mouth. The best she could manage was ", I'm sorry that it doesn't feel fair, I really am. But this'll be good for us."

Ava's dark eyes glittered and she wiped at them furiously. "No it won't. You guys have never made it work before, this time won't be different."

"That's because we never tried! Jesus, I've been in hiding my whole goddamned life…" Maggie put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Shit, baby…you wanna talk about fair? Not one part of my life has been fair. I love Charming, love my family. And I have you and love you more than anything, but I get lonely. I miss your dad…badly. I've been waiting to come home for _fourteen years_. We can put you in a new school and you can make new friends, but you only have one dad. And he's the only one I want."

Her eyes were shut now, fat tears sliding down her cheeks. Her lips trembled but she didn't sob and wail. The girl was stoic in her grief.

Maggie ran a hand through her hair, tucked the dark strands behind her ear. "What do you want, Ava?" she said softly. "Would you rather have some dorky, pain in the ass stepdad?"

She shook her head.

"I know that a lot has happened all at once -,"

"It's too much," Ava said hoarsely. "Everything…it just…I don't like Charming…and…"

Maggie hugged her even though she was stiff and resistant. "I know, baby. I'm sorry."

***

Maggie found Chibs in the backyard with Jax and Opie when she returned downstairs. They were seated around Gemma's wrought iron table, smoking and talking in hushed tones. Chibs' head snapped around at the sound of the sliding door closing behind her.

"Everything okay?"

She smiled tiredly and slid into the chair between him and her cousin. "I told her about staying in Charming."

Jax and Ope twitched surprised looks.

Chibs was still. "How'd that go?" he asked carefully.

Maggie sighed and leaned back in her chair. "She got choked up…gave me the spiel I was expecting. We'll see."

"Is she pissed about moving, or you two hooking up?" Jax asked.

"Both." She closed her eyes. "Whatever. So long as she doesn't try to hitchhike her way back up north, she's got some time to come around."

"Tacoma should be here tomorrow," Opie said. "She likes them, right?"

Maggie grinned. "_Loves _them. I can't tell you how many times I had to explain to her school that she didn't actually have fifteen uncles in a biker club. Parent/teacher conferences were so much fun when she was in elementary school…not."

She glanced over at Chibs and found him staring at his hands, fiddling with his lighter. "She'll be fine," she assured. "Kids hate change, but she'll get over it."

He didn't look convinced and it killed her. She aimed a look across the table at Jax. "Tomorrow," she said firmly. "Whatever you guys need, I'm there."

He nodded. "It's gonna be a hard couple of days, Mags."

"Good thing I'm such a hard bitch then, huh?"

Jax grinned. "Since when?"

"Careful there, Jackie-boy, this one's carryin' all kinds of steel, brother," Chibs spoke up, voice edged with laughter for the first time that evening.

"You still got that old Swiss Army knife?" Opie asked, almost smiling.

"I've got _two _knives…neither Swiss…and I stole one of Tig's guns."

All three men laughed at that. "A'ight, Rambo," Jax said around a chuckle.

She winked. "You better believe it…" her grin was evil ", Apple Jacks."

He groaned.

Opie snorted. "God, you've still got that one in the holster, huh?"

Maggie laughed and it felt wonderful, cleansing almost. Better yet, it felt like way back when, back before all their lives had been upended. It was beautiful.

***

Ava watched through the sliding glass door and thought it was odd to see her mom smile so much, laugh like a kid with the guys. Chibs said something that caused her to lean over and smack at him, which just widened his grin. Jax and Opie were laughing too and the scene looked so normal, like the four of them had been doing this for years.

"This is what it was like," Ava heard a voice over her left shoulder and turned to find Gemma staring out at the patio too. "Before you were born…this was her home. She never could stand Arizona and the boys loved her. She was happy."

The Queen glanced down at her, face serious. "Things are bad, kiddo, and whether you see it or not, they need each other, your parents. They're good together."

Ava said nothing, a little shocked to be getting this lecture from some estranged second cousin.

"You're mad as hell, and I get that, but we need your mom here. Don't be such a dumb kid you lose sight of what's important."

"Um…"

"Besides, you turn eighteen, you can up and leave." She shrugged. "That's what she did."

She hadn't thought of it that way.

"But this club's your family, it's in your blood. I'd think twice before I turned my back on that. Ask the doc…it's hard to come back after you pull the plug." Gemma patted her on top of the head as if she were a much younger child and then walked away.

A little dazed, Ava returned her gaze back through the window. _Family. Blood. _She sighed. Charming was going to take some getting used to.

**TBC**


	16. The Cavalry

AN: I'm pissed that ff keeps deleting my scene delineators! All my little asterisks have disappeared. So I'm hoping my new markers work. I'm thinking there will be at least two, possibly three more chapters after this. I'm ending at the end of season 2.

**Chapter 16: The Cavalry**

First light had just pierced the darkness, brightening the sky to a dusky shade of blue that seeped between the gaps in the blinds. Maggie worked her legs slowly through the sheets, loving the cool smoothness against her skin, hating that the next day had come and she would have to climb out of bed. Chibs' arm was limp across her stomach, his breathing even and slow against the top of her head. She studied the shadowy dorm room and wished for a quiet day to just spend in bed. She wanted to close her eyes and fall back to sleep.

Instead, she sighed and slid away from Chibs, swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. The AC was running and goose bumps erupted down her arms when the sheet slid away. She tap danced her bare toes across the hardwood and seriously started to rethink the whole falling back to sleep thing. Her to do list for the day was overwhelming. And one day of normalcy hadn't felt like enough.

"Why're you awake?" Chibs mumbled sleepily behind her.

She felt his fingers at the small of her back and smiled. "We've got a lot to do before tomorrow."

"It can wait another hour."

The sheets rustled behind her, the mattress squeaked, and then his arms came around her waist. Her grin widened at the feel of his lips on her shoulder. "You better be careful, a girl could get used to this."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it."

**-O-**

Stahl sipped her coffee and studied the files scattered across her desk. Amongst all the paperwork, the sheet most infuriating was the unsigned statement that had been drawn up for Filip Telford. She'd wasted hundreds of dollars of resources tailing the bastard, digging up his old dirt, only for his cocky, Scottish ass to mail back his CI paperwork with the words _fuck you _scrawled across the neat type in red ink. Now she just wanted to lock him up on principle.

"This is all the Telford shit?" she waved her cup to indicate the mess on her desk.

Agent Smith nodded from his seat across from her. "Yes, ma'am."

She sighed and scraped the glossy surveillance photos towards her. She had to admit that their ops guy was good. There were shots of Telford all around town, some with the other Sons, some alone. One photo had been taken through the gaps in the chain link gate at Teller-Morrow and the Scotsman could clearly be seen holding onto a woman's arm.

Stahl squinted and picked the shot up, angling it towards the incoming sunlight. The woman was a dirty blond, thirties. She was staring up at Chibs and seemed to be pushing him away, one hand on his chest. The pose was intimate, impassioned anger evident in their body language. Telford had been pushing for a wit pro deal for Fiona and Kerianne, but this chick was a mystery.

"Who's this?" she asked, flipping the photo around so Smith could see it.

He shrugged and leaned forward, indicating several photos on the edge of the desk. "We've got a few shots of her. She was at Teller-Morrow and Clay Morrow's house. Here," he separated one from the pile and slid it towards her ", she seems to have a daughter."

Stahl peered down at the picture and saw the same woman standing with a girl; a skinny brunette with a thin face and little arched eyebrows. She felt herself smile. "Anything about this kid seem familiar to you?"

Smith shook his head and she sighed. She slapped one of the photos of Telford down beside the one of the girl. "Take a closer look."

He scooted up to the edge of his chair. "Oh…"

"Yeah. 'Oh.'" Stahl's grin widened. "Chibs you bad, bad boy."

**-O-**

"Maybe you should have Tara look at it," Ava suggested, nodding toward the ice pack in Kip's lap.

"I'm headed to the ER," he said with a grimace. "Just as soon as Hap gets here."

Ava had always been a bit of a late sleeper, but hadn't been able to stay in bed this morning. She had been given Jax's dorm room on the second floor and it was drafty, the California night creeping in through a hole in the window. It hadn't really helped that she'd stared at the peaked ceiling above her and swiped at tears for hours, warring back and forth in her head about this whole staying in Charming business. She was furious with her mother, but a little sorry for her too. Gemma's words kept coming back to her and she thought about Tara the outsider; no matter what that woman did, she would always be the one who had turned her back on the club. Ava didn't want to be that girl, but she sure as hell didn't want to live in Jax's skanky old dorm room for the next five years either.

When the tossing and turning had become unbearable around six, Ava had ventured downstairs. She'd been surprised to find the Prospect in front of the TV so early, icing his nuts and sipping a beer.

His mention of Happy made her frown. "Why Hap?"

"He's taking me to St. Thomas." He shrugged. "I'm thinkin' they'll have to, you know, go back in."

She shuddered. "TMI, dude."

He blushed. "Sorry." He was silent a few moments and Ava could see him staring at her and raking his fingers through his hair. He tried twice to say something and thought better of it.

"What?" she finally asked with a sigh.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

He looked around to ensure they were alone, wet his lips and stalled.

"Kip -,"

"Are you and Happy, like…" he raised his pale brows ", you know."

"No," she said firmly.

"I mean, I didn't think so, it was just that Juice said…well, and that whole thing your mom said…I mean, you're way too young so…um, not that you're a little kid or anything, I just mean -,"

"What stupid shit are you sayin' now?" Happy's voice silenced him.

Ava jumped, startled to see the Nomad standing behind Kip's chair; she hadn't even heard him come in.

"Oh, hey…hey, Hap," Kip tried to recover. "We were just -,"

"Runnin' your damn mouth again, huh?" Happy knocked the Prospect in the back of the head and then took a seat on the sofa across from Ava. He pulled a plastic sleeve of mini chocolate doughnuts from inside his cut and waved them at her. "Breakfast?"

She frowned. She loved those things and he knew it, knew she wouldn't turn them down. "Yeah," she caught the package easily. "Thanks."

"Ooh, can I have one?" Kip asked eagerly.

"No," Hap glared at him and the kid blanched. "Go wait in the van, I ain't got all day to spend on your busted glass ball."

The Prospect got to his feet stiffly, leaving his ice pack behind in the chair. He shot Ava a curious look as he walked around behind Hap. He almost grinned and drew a heart in the air with his fingertips.

"What was that, Prospect?" she asked sweetly.

Hap twisted around in his seat and Kip hustled his gimpy ass towards the door. Ava giggled. As incompetent as the little doofus seemed, he knew not to test the limits of Happy's sense of humor.

"What?" he grumbled as he faced forward again.

"Nothing," she said, ripping into the cellophane and pulling out a doughnut. "Your Prospect's just a dope is all."

"What, you don't think he's cute?" he prodded, raspy voice slightly amused.

"That'd be a great big No." Ava shook her head for emphasis, suddenly wishing she wasn't alone with Hap. Did the man have no tact? Asking her if she thought the measly little _Prospect _was cute when…she sighed and studied the waxy chocolate coating of the doughnuts, intent on not continuing the conversation.

She heard the click of his lighter and the rush of exhaled smoke a moment later. "You still mad at me?"

"No," Ava lied. _Mad _wasn't the word she would use. Heartbroken, crushed, foolish, devastated, hopeless…but not mad.

"You nervous about all the shit that's about to happen?"

Glancing up at him, seeing how calm and stern he was, just as always, she hated him a little bit. Her grandmother had always said that a girl like her shouldn't be exposed to men like him. And as inadequate as she felt lately, she was starting to think her Grammie had been right all along. She lied again. "No. Are you?"

His grin was wicked, lips pulling to one side, teeth flashing white against his dark face. "Nope."

The word _animal _popped into her brain unbidden. She shivered for a multitude of reasons she didn't even begin to understand. "Kip's waiting," she said, shifting in her chair so she faced the TV and not Happy.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him rise and lean her way. Her face flushed hot as the sun when his hand settled on her head. He ruffled her hair and then retreated. "I'll see ya, sweetheart."

"I hate my life," she muttered under her breath as he walked away.

**- O -**

The day seemed to drag. The women were running errands, hauling in enough food and booze for an army – literally. The guys were moving things around, boxes and bags and guns. By late afternoon Ava was stir crazy and starting to worry she might get roped into helping somehow. She wandered out into the parking lot, shading her eyes against the sun, looking for some sort of distraction. After skirting around the boxing ring and coming up empty, she found the ladder that led up to the roof and shrugged. What the hell.

Up over the concrete lip, she hopped down to the little flat stretch of roof that ended where the steady slope of shingles began. There were empty beer bottles and cigarette butts everywhere – somebody spent a lot of time up here.

Ava found a nice perch on the metal box that covered the exhaust fan and sat down, sneakers braced on the short wall in front of her. The landscape below was just concrete, chain link, and the surrounding rooftops, but the scene was somehow grand from so high up. The sun was angled at the perfect degree to catch the glint of gutters and downspouts, the metal skirting around vents and pipes.

"You hidin' out?"

She turned and saw Jax climbing off the top rung of the ladder, the neck of a Budweiser clenched between two fingers.

"Maybe," she said as he approached.

He offered a sideways smile. "You picked a good spot. This is where I come to think."

Ava sighed and stared down at the asphalt below them. "I'm tired of thinking."

"Yeah." Jax sat beside her and she wondered where this was going. Her mother had talked a lot and lovingly about cousin Jackson, but she couldn't imagine the grown up version wanting to hang with her. "Things are crazy."

She nodded.

"I can't blame you about not wanting to stay." Ava turned to him, shocked. Jax was staring off away from her. "I could never leave Charming."

"You know," she sighed ", this is rude, but I don't care. I can't listen to one more person tell me how important Charming is, how it's what's best for my parents."

He gave her a serious look. "Do you hear me sayin' any of that?"

"No…"

"Then don't get your panties in a wad over it." Jax shrugged. "I just wanted a smoke and a beer."

They were silent for a moment and Ava picked at the ragged inseam of her jeans along her knee. Everyone had been tip toeing around her feelings for the past few weeks – even Gemma though she'd been harsh and to the point. It was a kick to the ass to hear Jax shrug off her problems. And a little nice too.

"When's Tacoma getting here?" she asked after awhile, unable to keep curiosity at bay.

"I think Hap talked to Koz about a half hour ago," Jax said on an exhale. "Shouldn't be but another hour or so." He cut his gaze towards her. "You excited or somethin'?"

She shrugged, but felt the familiar acceleration of her heart. "I grew up around those guys. They're like family."

He grinned. "Family as in brothers…or family as in Happy?"

Ava buried her face against her raised knees and groaned. "Did everyone hear about that?"

He chuckled. "When your mom throws a fit, she does it right, man. Everyone in the county heard about that."

"Oh, God…"

Jax made a _tsk_-ing sound inside his cheek. "Same crazy taste in dudes just like your mom. I pity Chibs having to put up with you two."

Ava rolled her head to the side, caught his smile and knew he was teasing. She grinned reluctantly.

"Ava!" she recognized her mother's voice and glanced down to see Maggie standing beside Tara in the parking lot. "We're making a grocery run, you wanna come?"

Ava frowned and then Jax answered for her. "Naw, she's stayin' with me!"

She thought she might protest, but Maggie grinned. "You take care of my girl, Jackson!"

"Yup." He saluted her with his bottle.

Ava smiled. Cousin Jax was alright.

**-O-**

Of all the towns they'd lived in, Charming was definitely the smallest. Polly Zobelle pulled a disgusted face as she ran her fingertips across the labels of the yogurt cups in the cooler. The market didn't carry anything name brand and none if it had actual fruit bits blended in. She sighed and shut the door, the rubber seal smacking back into place. Maybe she should just go down the street to that pathetic café and grab lunch. Nikki's wasn't half bad…

She gasped as she turned around. Of the two women walking toward her, the brunette was instantly recognizable. The Sons' doctor; Tara Knowles. The blond had been in town a few weeks now, and though they still didn't know her name, she was in deep with the MC.

Polly forced herself to calm down as the pair came closer. The Queen Mother Biker Skank hadn't squealed about her assault, so there was no reason for these two to recognize her for who she was. She hiked her shopping basket over one elbow and walked slowly around the end cap of the next aisle.

But as soon as she was out of sight, she broke into a jog.

**-O-**

"Cooking my ass," Maggie grumbled. "The way the Tacoma boys eat? I vote a metric ton of frozen pizza…" she turned and saw that her shopping buddy wasn't listening. "Tara?"

The doc was staring towards the back of the aisle. Maggie followed her line of sight and saw a young blond slip around the corner. "Tara."

"That girl," she said softly. "I've seen her. Right before…"

"Right before what?"

Tara set off at a brisk walk, pursuing the other woman.

"Shit," Maggie sighed. She shelved the loaf of bread she'd been holding and followed, boot heels loud on the tile.

Tara was already around the pyramid of Bounty and halfway down the neighboring aisle. There was a full, discarded basket on the floor and the blond was empty handed as she pushed through the front door of the market. The doctor went all the way up to the bank of windows in the front and cupped her hands on the glass, peering out onto the sidewalk.

"What the hell was that?" Maggie huffed when she finally caught up.

"Nothing," Tara said tightly, but her face told a whole different story.

"Hey," Maggie snagged her elbow as she turned away. "If we're gonna be in this and get along, I need to know what's happening."

Tara frowned, a snippy remark evident just behind her lips.

"We're about to go on _lockdown_," Maggie stressed. "This isn't about anybody's privacy. It's about safety."

She sighed. "The girl was the one who hit Gemma over the head. The one who -,"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

A cold feeling settled in the pit of Maggie's stomach. "C'mon. We should get back."

**-O-**

By six, Maggie was beat. The clubhouse started to close in on her and she slipped outside. Tig was leaned back against the concrete wall of the building, smoking and staring out at the lot from behind his shades. Maggie debated leaving him alone, and then decided against it. They hadn't really interacted since they almost…she swallowed hard at the memory…and figured it was time to redraw the lines. Even if that was the last thing she should be worried about at a time like this.

"Hey, man," she said tiredly, propping up beside him and putting the sole of one boot against the wall.

He snorted a response.

It was silent a beat and suddenly Maggie regretted this. Shit, Tig had never been anything more than civil to her, and that was on a good day. The only thing they'd ever had in common was fucking. And something was obviously not right with him these days. She should have left him alone.

"Your stupid kid's still up on the roof," he said at last.

Maggie rolled her head to the side and caught his grumpy, almost smile. "If it was anyone else's kid, I'd agree with you. But my kid ain't stupid."

He smirked.

"She's all excited about Tacoma getting here and she's got a killer view up there."

"What's so great about Tacoma?"

Maggie tilted her head in question. "They're _your_ brothers. You must hang out with them for some reason."

He made a face.

"Oh," she said slowly, catching on and smiling. "You just don't like _all _the guys from Tacoma, huh?"

His silence was incriminating.

"Do you honest to God still have that beef with Koz? After all this time?"

"Guy's a douche bag."

Maggie laughed quietly to herself as she returned her gaze back toward the gate. Men and their pride.

They slipped into silence; one considerably more comfortable than before, and it wasn't long before the quiet was disturbed with a distant sound like thunder. She couldn't so much hear it as sense it. It was a vibration. A disturbance of the air. She grinned.

"Speaking of douche bags…"

**-O-**

Zobelle stood at the front window of his shop, watching the lazy pedestrian traffic out on the sidewalk. Polly's report about the doctor and her mystery companion hadn't so much worried him as frustrated him. The fact that the blond remained nameless was most likely the result of some irksome little oversight in the intelligence network. And Deputy Chief Hale had been no help whatsoever in shedding some light.

Knowledge was power. And everything he learned about the Sons exposed yet another weakness. It was happening slowly, but there were cracks forming within the MC. It was only a matter of time before the Sons of Anarchy imploded. And he was a patient man.

A rattling sound pulled his attention to the interior of the store. Zobelle frowned when he realized that the glass front of a display case was jumping around in its frame. He pressed his hand to the pane, stilling it. But the vibration traveled up his arm. It was slight, but insistent.

And then he heard it; low at first but picking up volume. The floor vibrated beneath his feet as the growling roar came down the street.

He knew the sound without turning, but he looked anyway. Motorcycles, two dozen of them at least, were riding double wide down Main Street. An army. Clay Morrow had called in an army.

It took him a moment to put a name to the tightness in his chest. Doubt.

**-O-**

Ava heard their approach before she saw them. She stood, straining up on her toes to peer over the other rooftops. The sinking sun blurred her eyes and she shielded them with a hand, squinting hard out at the street.

The roar grew louder, closer. Excitement welled up in her stomach, butterflies flapping around.

And then she saw them as they swung wide around the corner. There were more bikes than she's expected. Tacoma must have hooked up with the Nomads on the way and they were an impressive sight, all those Harleys riding in formation. It stirred up something very basic and powerful in a person; this animal need for speed and strength. It was what separated Ava from other girls her age, from her friends back at school. They saw motorcycles and felt nothing. And she felt drawn in, magnetized. Gemma was right, it must be in her blood.

As the guys dipped in at the gate, she headed for the ladder.

**-O-**

Chibs filed out of the clubhouse with the rest of the guys at the sound of Tacoma's arrival. He liked his Charming boys best, but he got along with everyone. No blood feuds or posturing bullshit like Tig had going with Kozik. And anytime all the charters got together the bashes were out of this world.

But Chibs had this nagging little voice at the back of his head reminding him that when the ball started rolling on revenge, he was going to get labeled a rat and become the IRA's next target. And he would have failed not just one kid, but two.

Maggie smiled at him when he stepped up beside her. He felt guilty. She thought things were about to be fixed. The fifteen plus men milling around the parking lot were here to help slay everybody's dragons. But Chibs knew better.

He spotted Ava hugging first Koz and then Glen. His knee jerk reaction was to be incensed that these grown men were all smiling and affectionate with his little girl. But he realized she knew them better than him. They were more her family than her old man. And he took a strange comfort in the fact that should anything happen to him, she had a whole fleet of boys who'd look after. Happy had already given his promise, and no doubt the others would do the same. Maggie and Ava would always be safe.

"The cavalry!" Clay boomed as he stepped out of the clubhouse.

Chibs shook himself loose from the bullshit in his head and entered the fray of hugs and back slaps.

**TBC**


	17. Fuel to the Fire

AN: I've decided to round this out at an even twenty chapters. Two for "The Culling" and two for the finale. This is my last post for the next week – I'll be out of town – and I feel like this is some sloppy writing. But I wanted to put it up before I left for my trip.

**Chapter 17: Fuel to the Fire**

There was an anxious knot in Maggie's stomach. She thought a shower and her morning routine would ease some of the tension, but it didn't. Today was a big day and she supposed uneasiness was going to be her plague of the afternoon.

Chibs met her as she was coming out of the bathroom, already dressed. "You leaving?" she asked, sounding more worried than she'd wanted to.

"Aye. I'm running the van. Gotta be back by ten."

He would never admit it, but Chibs was worried too. His face showed it. "Be careful," she said, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. She had a feeling she was going to be doing that a lot today.

"You're staying here," he said. It wasn't a question.

"I'm gonna see what Gemma needs."

He raised a brow in warning.

"Don't get all macho," she said with a huff. "I know how this lockdown shit works."

"Yeah? Then fuckin' act like it and stay put."

It had been awhile since she'd lived the day-to-day MC life, but Maggie knew when to shut her trap. He wasn't so much stern as he was grouchy. And she knew that was the nerves talking. Today was about getting justice for her cousin, and keeping everyone alive while somehow taking out the worst threat SAMCRO had seen in a decade. None of the guys needed their women to bitch them out.

"Hey," she palmed the reaper on his back as he turned away from her. He paused. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to -,"

"I know," he said heavily. "Don't worry about it. Should we wake her?"

Rooms had been hard to come by with all the extra Sons in town, so Ava had crashed on the floor. She was curled up on her side on a pallet of blankets and pillows, looking younger and almost sweet in sleep. Wearing one of somebody's ratty old t-shirts.

"Naw, let her sleep," she said quietly.

**-O-**

Visits from outside charters almost always produced a giant, drunken party. But the night before had been a rare exception. And as Maggie made her way down the hall toward the common room, the tumble of voices was loud. Everyone was already up and running.

She nearly collided with her cousin as Gemma stepped out of the kitchen. "Hey, babe," the Queen said quickly. "You man the kitchen for me? We've gotta get some breakfast ready."

"'Course. Where are you going?"

Gemma rolled her eyes. "One last trip to the store. Some of these ingrates can't drink anything but Miller," she said, throwing a pissed look over her shoulder towards the crowd of guys. "Just put one of the girls on food and keep an eye on everything else. Jax and Tara should be here soon. Doc's bringing her medical shit."

"I'm on it. Just be safe out there, okay?"

Gemma smiled and the absurdity of the situation hit them like a slap. Here they were in _Charming _and afraid for their lives. It was ludicrous.

They hugged quickly. "I'll see ya when you get back," Maggie said. Then she walked away before the concern could turn to real worry.

Maggie checked in with the sweetbutts in the kitchen who had already started breakfast for the guys. Then it was off to do a head count and make sure all domestic needs were taken care of. When the men went to war, the women kept the home fires burning.

She was staging extra blankets and pillows beside the sofas for later when she felt a tug on her arm. Glancing up through her falling hair, she saw Glen perched on the arm of the couch. Maggie smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears as she stood. "Hey, dude."

Glen hadn't changed much outwardly since he'd ridden with Happy on her first trip to Seattle. He'd been a Prospect then, nervous and afraid to make a mistake. Now he was a thirteen year patch holder. His platinum hair was long and braided in one thick plat down his back, the pale scraps of beard getting too long on his chin. He wasn't a big guy, but was loyal to a fault. And was pretty scrappy in a fight – or so she was told. He was one of Ava's favorites.

"Where's your girl?" he asked as he fished a smoke out of his cut pocket. "Shouldn't she be doing this shit?"

"Making up beds and feeding you guys?" Maggie raised her brows. "No thanks. I'm not ready for her to turn into a sweetbutt just yet."

He snorted and grinned. "Like Ol' Softy would ever let her turn into one of those." He nodded across the room to a table full of Nomads and Maggie knew he was talking about Hap.

She sighed. "She's had a hard few weeks. Big adjustments and shit."

"Rumor has it you two are gonna stay in Charming. There any truth to that?"

"Yeah."

He whistled. "Shit. Didn't think that would ever happen."

She swatted his arm as she moved away. "Thanks for the confidence, jackass."

Glen smiled. "You know you love me."

"Uh huh." She walked away, more perturbed than she should have been. Why shouldn't she come home to Chibs? It made her wonder what some of the other guys thought. Just when she was so sure this thing would work, someone else planted little seeds of doubt.

Juice was balanced precariously on his knees on a bar stool, frigging with the wires behind the wall mounted TV. "Hey, Juice," she said slowly, not wanting to startle him into a fall.

His head popped into view. "I've almost got the security feeds hooked back up. Some of the wires got crossed and -,"

"I was gonna see if you were hungry."

"Oh," he grinned and he looked so damn cute Maggie had the sudden urge to run down the hall and lock her daughter in the dorm room. He had a smile that could get an entire high school full of girls into the backseat of an old Chevy. She trusted Hap implicitly, but this kid…

"Tell you what, I'll make sure you get the first batch of whatever the hell the girls are fixing if you do me a favor."

His brow crimped, making him look even younger. "Okay…"

She smiled sweetly. "Stay away from Ava."

**-O-**

Ava came awake slowly. Her back was sore and she tossed around, unable to find a comfortable spot on her makeshift bed. The surrounding walls and rooms were loud with voices and other noises. She hadn't slept well either, worried that ay any moment she might _overhear _something from the bed. But her parents had thankfully just slept and now she was tired and grumpy for nothing. She kicked off the sheets and got dressed anyway.

She was brushing her teeth when she remembered just exactly who was in town. She hustled up.

It smelled like sausage, eggs, and burned toast out in the hall. The doors to the other dorm rooms were open and she caught snatches of color – sheets, piles of clothing, backpacks – and guys in various stages of undress. She saw Tig in his boxers, stepping into his jeans, and hastened her step. No way was she going to be accused of spying on that one.

One of the club girls stepped out of the kitchen with a plate in each hand as Ava reached the doorway. She gave the girl a 'get lost' face. "No kids in the kitchen, sweetie," she said with forced politeness. "Why don't you go play with the others?"

"Or her mama could kick your bony little ass," Maggie said, coming up behind the Crow Eater.

The girl went white beneath her spray-on tan as she twisted to confront the speaker. "Oh shit, I didn't -,"

"Go," Maggie waved her away and she scurried off. She folded her arms. "You okay?"

Ava shrugged, not willing to admit that it stung more than just a little every time someone pointed out just how young she was. She finger combed her hair unconsciously, trying to smooth down the bed head look.

"You sleep alright?"

"Yeah."

Maggie had that quivering mother look on her face, like she was seconds away from crushing her into a hug. If that was true, she fought the impulse. "Hungry?"

Another nod. _Why don't you go play with the others? _Why had that hurt so damn much? She was tougher than this.

"Go sit at the bar and I'll bring you a plate."

Ava shuffled into the common room and cut between the clusters of adults. The area felt ten times smaller, packed wall-to-wall with leather clad men. The shifting of boots and rattling of chains was loud, the voices even louder. Everyone was sitting, talking and smoking, all of them seemingly waiting for something. Ava spotted Kozik at the bar with Glen and one of the newer Tacoma members, R.J., and headed in their direction.

The instant her butt hit the stool, Koz pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head, tugging it low on her face. She grinned as she swatted his hands away.

"S'up, Little Bit? Where you been?"

"Hiding from you," she said, enjoying the mock hurt expression he threw back at her. The other guys chuckled.

Banter was their thing. She knew that Koz butted heads with some of the other Sons, but she'd always figured the good natured way he picked at her was the product of affection, not just a shitty personality. She loved it. Happy was always very serious and protective, treated her like she was made of glass, so she liked to be ribbed every now and then. It made her feel older, less like a kid.

**-O-**

The crowd started to grow after nine. Maggie had thought the place couldn't get more packed, but of course she'd been wrong. She traded hugs with two of Bobby's ex wives, marveling at how big the kids had gotten, and traded nods with Otto's baby mama – the woman who hadn't been able to get a wedding ring and had hated Luann for it for years. It took the women a moment to recognize her, and then she was met with shock and disbelief, like they'd seen a ghost. No one had thought Maggie would ever come back to Charming.

Gemma came back safely from the store, a sweetbutt lugging grocery bags behind her. It had quickly been revealed that Koz was the one who'd ordered the Miller and he earned an ass chewing from the Queen for it.

Piney brought Lyla and Opie's kids, as well as her six-year-old. Cute kid even if he did have a girl's name. The porn star sat dejectedly on a sofa, watching the kids play with half an eye, worrying her cuticles with her teeth and looking generally miserable. Almost like she didn't feel comfortable getting pulled in this deep with the club so soon. Maggie tried to ignore her.

She stood beside Gemma, Ava in front of her. Clay was at the head of the room, scanning the crowd. He and Juice traded words she couldn't hear and then the tech wiz went jogging out the door.

Maggie shifted from foot to foot, anxious. Everyone seemed to be accounted for except for her man and Jax.

As if on cue, one last stream of women and children came into the clubhouse. Jax was following, nodding to himself, Tara hefting Abel's car seat. And Chibs and Juice brought up the rear, the door slamming shut behind them.

Chibs looked tired, mentally and physically, and despite all the emotional trauma this ordeal had caused her, she knew it had been doubly hard on him. She'd never seen him like this. She wanted to go to him, slide her arm through his, but the tangle of bodies between them was too wide. And something about the stress in his frown made him seem unapproachable. She hugged Ava back against her tighter instead.

A sharp whistle that could only have come from Tig whipped through the room. "Everybody! Listen up!"

The room fell silent and all eyes turned to Clay. Maggie nearly smiled to see Gemma move to stand beside him, and then Jax stepped next to her. Closed in by both her men.

The gravity of it all slammed into Maggie as Clay opened his mouth to speak. This was big. The club, and all the people attached to it, faced something they never had before. It was frightening, and awe inspiring. So many people; women and children; wives, girlfriends, sisters and lovers…they all supported the club without question. And now that club was supporting them. Despite all its faults, it was a family Maggie was proud to claim.

"I wanna welcome you all to Club Reaper," Clay began loudly. "Glad you made your reservations early, 'cause as you can see, we're booked to capacity." A low chuckle rippled through the crowd. "You're here because you're family," Clay said more seriously. "And because SAMCRO takes care of its own." He took a deep breath, glanced at the floor, gathering the strength needed to address everyone. "Next couple of days, this club's got some business to handle that could put our members…and the people connected to us…in unfriendly situations."

Maggie tightened her arms around Ava, earning a grumble of protest. She scanned the faces of the other mothers and saw worry…and an odd type of faith. They trusted the boys to do right by them.

"Now chances are nothing's gonna happen," the President continued. "But," he looked at Chibs ", people have already been hurt on my watch," and then Gemma ", and that ain't ever gonna happen again."

Jax pulled his mother against his side. Chibs stared at his boots and Maggie bit her lip as she watched him.

Clay faced forward again and his voice took on an edge of authority. "Nobody gets in, nobody leaves without an escort. You got a safety concern you talk to Piney." The old man hefted his rifle as identification. "You got a comfort concern, you talk to my Queen." Gemma nodded. "Under this roof you'll all be safe. I want you to make yourselves at home. I love all of ya."

It was silent only a moment, and then Tig started the applause with an "alright" and the clapping spread, hard and fast. There were hugs and back slaps traded amongst some of the guys and Maggie stared through the waving hands and faces to where Chibs still stood propped against a support column. She caught his eye and he looked lost. Sad.

_I love you _she mouthed, hoping for a smile. Instead he pushed his way through the crowd and dropped a kiss on her cheek, then one on the top of Ava's head.

Suddenly Maggie knew that whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with lockdown or revenge for Gemma. She left the thought unspoken as he headed towards the chapel with the rest of the guys.

**-O-**

_Bring Fiona in too, we'll keep her safe._

Yeah. That was going to be easy. And Maggie was just going to faint with happiness. Chibs was so tired of sighing. It was actually starting to hurt.

He left the chapel with the others and headed for the bar. He needed a little liquid courage before he went to Galt. Maggie was behind the bar, rinsing out mugs and glasses, her back to him. Her jeans had a big tear in the back pocket. A dark smudge marred the back of her white shirt. Her nerves were frayed too, he realized. She was tired and stressed, low on clean clothes and patience. He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't in this thing alone. Not anymore.

"Well," he drawled. "I've seen some hot fuckin' sweetbutts behind this bar before…"

She turned, a smirk twisting her lips, already hefting the mug in her hand as if to bash him across the head with it.

"Oh, hi, darlin'," he pretended he hadn't known it was her. He forced a grin and she returned the expression tiredly.

"You know," she said, shaking the mug. "I'm a pretty good shot with one of these. How do you think Tig's nose got that way?"

"Nah, I take credit for that one," he cracked his knuckles and her smile widened. For a moment, he knew they were both remembering that boxing match from a long time ago. Maggie's face all flushed as she climbed up on the picnic table and cheered him on. The strong feel of his hands back before he'd knocked the bones in the right one all to hell.

Maggie's smile faded and took his fond memory with it. She moved around, he heard glass clink together and then a shot materialized in front of him as if she'd read his mind.

"I have to go somewhere," he started to tell her. "Alone -,"

"I don't wanna know."

"No?"

"No." She leaned across the bar and squeezed his arm before moving away. "Just come home safe."

She knew. He could look in her eyes and tell that she _knew _where he was going. He would have almost preferred she argue about it. Chibs started to spill his guts, blab about his plan to bring Fiona back to the clubhouse with him.

Instead, he threw back his whiskey and pulled out his phone.

**-O-**

Stahl answered her cell on the first ring, not even bothering with a greeting. "Where is he?"

"Rest stop in Galt," Agent Jordan answered. "You want us to move on him?"

"No. Who's he meeting?"

"Fiona Larkin."

Stahl smiled to herself. "Listen, I've got a shit ton of stuff to do about the Hayes kid. Find something out about his other lady friend and then call me back."

**-O-**

"Who do you think I am, one of your _old ladies_?" Fiona said harshly. "Jimmy'd kill me if he knew I was here!"

The rest stop bathroom smelled like piss and mold. Staring at Fiona against a backdrop of grimy, once-white tile and a painted wood door, he wondered how in the hell he'd gotten to this place in his life. Just one fucking month ago he'd been a happy bachelor, going on "charity" runs, hanging out at Caracara with access to live, free porn, and crashing through hotel walls on the back of a flatbed.

And now he was standing in front of the only woman he'd actually married, and the only one who couldn't care less if he lived or died. He thought about Kerianne and desperately wanted not to fail her again. It felt sinful and sacrilegious, what he had to do, but he was going to do it anyway.

He inhaled deeply, rallying an earnest face. "I love my daughter…" another deep breath "…and I love you, Fi. I just wanna take care of my family."

He instantly recognized the face she pulled, brows low over her eyes, lips puffed out, like he was a big hearted child who didn't understand the harsh reality of the world. Dark shadows of bruises still lingered around her eye. Maggie had knocked her a good one. But thinking about Maggie was painful in this context, so Chibs shoved her out of his mind.

"My sweet boy," Fiona said. "You _never _change."

He stepped closer and the air shifted between them. The space barrier had been broken and though heat sparked out of long lost habit, Chibs felt guilty. Very guilty and old and tired and defeated. He braced a hand on the wall and let his head fall when it became heavy on his neck. Here he was trying to do right by her, after all this time and bad blood, and she still reduced him to a boy again. "Yeah," he managed.

He felt the weight of her hand on his chest, heard the soft clap of her palm against the leather. She was touching patches she didn't understand or respect. Her dark brows were twisted, jaw soft as she looked up at him with something like pity.

That was the problem with Fi. She was an actress. After it had all come to an end, when he was well on his way to the States, minus a wife and daughter, he'd looked back on every touch, every kiss, every smile…and questioned the authenticity of it all. And though he knew now that her eyes flicked over his face out of scrutiny and not desire, he was going to go with it anyway.

The kiss was hesitant, as if each of them started and then retreated. Whisper soft at first. Chibs expected the old memories to come flooding back – but it was just a kiss. His lips playing with hers, not even as enjoyable as some of the Crow Eaters he entertained.

But Fiona couldn't know that. She had to think that he wanted her. And as her lips came apart slightly and his hands found her, chemical reaction took over and he _did _want her.

After he'd backed her against the door and she'd finally opened up for him, just when he thought she might start to lose the battle with reason, Fiona pushed him away. Always an actress, always in control.

Chibs was breathing hard in spite of his mental protests, aroused at the feel of her body.

But her smile chilled all the excitement right out of him. "You're not in this, luvie."

He stared at her and didn't even try to protest. She was too smart to buy any of the bullshit excuses he could offer.

"You really love her?"

He was silent.

Fiona straightened her sweater and then leaned up to pat him on one scarred cheek, letting her fingers linger over the Smile a moment. "You poor baby," she cooed. "I didn't think you'd ever let an American girl do this to you." She left him standing, dumbfounded, and paused at the door, one hand on the knob.

"I appreciate you tryin', luv. Really I do."

**-O-**

Jimmy's eyes were wide, mouth drawn. Clay had expected this reaction to the news that little Eddie had gone rogue. Now he had the Irishman right where he wanted him.

"You come here with a solution?" Jimmy asked, rolling his hand expectantly. He was too smart to think the Sons had only bad news to share.

Clay sat back and braced his hands against the table top. "Yeah. I did." He quickly detailed their plan for giving the ATF the slip and picking up the guns.

"Aye. That works."

Clay eyed the other man across the table. He wondered, for a moment, if playing this hand would terminate all relations with the IRA. But he'd meant what he'd said earlier at the clubhouse. Not one more member of his family was going to be hurt again. He'd pussyfooted around with Jimmy for too long now. "Oh, and Jimmy, there's a condition to all this."

"Condition?" the Irishman chuckled hollowly. "I wouldn't think – given your circumstances – you'd be in a position to demand conditions from me."

Clay almost smiled. "This has got nothing to do with SOA or the IRA. I got a lot of respect for you on a business level, Jimmy. But right now, I'm tellin' you on a _personal_ level, that if so much as _one _fuckin' shamrock comes within a hundred feet of my cousin, or her kid, then I'm afraid our business interests will no longer…_coincide._"

Jimmy's face was blank only a moment, then he frowned. "What cousin are you talkin' about -,"

"You know. And you go after her again, and Belfast will be outta the game like that," he snapped his fingers for emphasis.

From their positions leaned back against the bar, Tig and Bobby were nodding.

Emboldened by their agreement, Clay leaned across the table, lowering his voice. "This shit beef you got with Chibs, it's sick. Move on. And I can promise you that if one hair on either of their pretty little heads gets harmed, you're a dead man, Jimmy."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes.

"You're not just fucking with his family anymore…you're fucking with mine. And I won't tolerate it. We clear on that? Or do I need to take my business elsewhere?"

It was painfully quiet for a moment. Jimmy's hired thugs shifted around at their posts like they wanted to toss the Sons out on their asses. Clay waited, face hard, and watched the wheels turn behind Jimmy's eyes.

Finally he sighed, clearly pissed but aware that he needed buyers more than he needed control over the Scotsman. "Fine," Jimmy bit out. "Not a hair."

Clay extended a hand across the table. "See? Somehow I just knew you'd see things my way."

**-O-**

Maggie spent the next few hours catching up with Bobby's ex Sarah. Their little girl she'd never met was eight now, tiny and sporting a head full of her father's curly hair. But the conversation left Maggie restless, and when she saw Tara slide off her stool and head towards the back hall, she excused herself from Sarah and joined her cousin at the bar.

Gemma had been nursing coffee and watching the security feeds for a long time now, smoking one cigarette after the next. Maggie climbed onto the neighboring stool and waited, propped on an elbow.

"You alright?" Maggie asked.

Gemma nodded. "You're worried."

She sighed and didn't argue the statement. "I thought Chibs would be more himself after…"

Gemma gave her a sideways look.

"…all the fucking and bonding. But he's still not right. I know that of all things to be worried about right now, this isn't important…"

Gemma set her mug down slowly. Her gaze was shrewd. "You think it's about Fiona?"

Maggie leaned back on her stool. The thought had been a nagging little whisper at the back of her mind, but she hadn't expected Gemma to make that connection so quickly. "Honestly…yeah. I think it's about Fiona."

"That piss you off?"

"Yes. And no. I'm tired of arguing with him. I just want things to be like they were."

"Sweetheart, things ain't ever gonna be like they were."

Maggie flicked her gaze up to the TV. The screen was split into fourths. The images sent chills rippling up her arms. Nomads were camped out on the roof with rifles. The gate was drawn, a car slanted across it as an extra barrier, two Tacoma guys standing watch. She spoke quietly. "Do you think there's a chance -,"

"No," Gemma cut in. "He had a kid with the woman…and he's too good to throw her to the wolves after that…but _you _are his Old Lady, Mags. Fiona was a mistake, but he _chose_ you. You brought him back from a dark place years ago. Remember that."

"Yeah." Maggie continued to stare at the monitor.

**-O-**

"I already saw the dude's fingers," Ava said, rolling her eyes. "Or…lack there of."

Happy scowled at her from across the weight room…which was now the unofficial overflow for all the excess shit they needed to house so many people. "You're not supposed to see shit like that."

"Why?" she challenged. "'Cause I'm too young?"

"Because _no_body should have to see that." He stood up from his slouch against the wall and headed for the door. His eyes looked almost black when he was that angry, the whites flashing in contrast. "I'm protecting you, goddamnit. Let me do my job, Ava."

She watched him leave and wanted to call him back, but didn't. Ava knew she was playing games, punishing him for circumstances that were beyond his control. She kicked at someone's duffel bag out of frustration and something within made a cracking sound. _Oops._

Some creeper with really messed up hands had shown up at the gate and she'd been watching in horrified fascination as Tara fixed him up. The guys had all filed in shortly thereafter. Fingers had been snapped, throats cleared, and then Happy was towing her down the hall. Protecting her.

Despite everything he'd told her, it kept getting harder and harder to be around Hap. She couldn't care about him as an uncle or a brother or friend. She wanted more and her physical urges confused her…and he kept outlining the boundaries for her.

She couldn't wait for this lockdown to be over.

**-O-**

Maggie rinsed the coffee taste out of her mouth and then spit the swallow of Listerine back into the sink. She stared at her reflection for a long moment afterward, wiping the blue droplets from her lips with the back of her hand.

All of the guys had returned to the clubhouse and were talking to Chuck the bookie and his trigger fingers about club business. Everyone had come back, but her Scotty dog was still MIA. She kept running the scenarios through her head. He could have gone anywhere for any number of reasons.

But suspicions still plagued her.

"Maggie?" Chibs' voice was loud out in the bedroom.

She surprised herself by jerking a little at the sound of his brogue. "Coming," she called, smoothing her hair one last time before stepping out.

He was braced in the doorway, shades on.

"You're back."

"Aye."

It was awkward, and Maggie felt like it shouldn't have been. "So…did you get done…whatever is was?"

He sighed loudly. "Yeah."

Something was wrong. They had talked and sexed their way back to something more normal. His hands in her hair, her lips against his scars…all the caresses and nothing little whispers had helped. They were fixing things. But the distance between them now was not the symptom of any kind of reckoning. He'd been distant earlier and was now downright chilly.

Maggie walked to him and did the only thing she knew to, hugged him. She slid her arms between his shirt and his cut like she'd done way back when and buried her face at the base of his neck, inhaling deeply. That's when she knew.

He didn't return the embrace and she figured it had something to do with the smell of cheap perfume all over his clothes.

Chibs was still and she felt the steady thump of his heart through her own chest. Her instinct was to bolt, and she called upon every last scrap of Lawson strength as she pulled slowly away and then smoothed the halves of his cut with her palms. Her eyes were clear and tearless as she stared up at him through the lenses of his shades.

"Baby-,"

"Don't say anything," she cut him off. Her voice was calm. "We've already hashed out the _I love you_s and _sorry_s. I know where you went. I can smell her on you."

He swallowed and she saw his adam's apple bob.

"You do what you have to for Kerianne, but don't expect me to play Fiona's understudy. I won't take second place to that…woman." Maggie started to step around him before she started shaking as badly on the outside as she was on the inside, and he blocked her. "Chibs -,"

"Hear me out," he said.

"No," she stayed firm. "I get it."

"No you don't!"

Maggie sighed and took a step back. She couldn't physically wrestle him out of the way.

Chibs pushed his shades up on his forehead and rubbed his eyes, inhaling as if in pain. Maggie had a fleeting thought that his head wasn't properly healed yet and bit down on the tip of her tongue to keep from inquiring about it.

"I had…" he trailed off and then forced their gazes to meet, a firm hand on her chin. "I had to try and get Fi here, lie to her, trick her, do whatever I could to get her to leave with me. If Jimmy knew…if he finds out what I tried to do to him…he'll kill her."

Maggie ground her jaw against the feel of his fingers. That Irish bitch had threatened her, and her daughter. "You think I don't understand protecting family?" she asked coldly.

His hand moved to her shoulder but wasn't comforting. "I think, sweetheart, that you don't understand the bigger picture."

Outmuscled or not, Maggie shoved into him hard, clawing and pushing her way out into the hall. Chibs staggered out of surprise alone and quickly caught up with her. He snagged her elbow from behind. "Maggie."

She halted but refused to face him. Her body quivered head to toe, blood boiling. He had let Fiona grind all over him like a goddamn stripper obviously…and then he called her stupid. She started blinking rapidly.

"I didn't mean it like that -,"

"Sure you did. Now let go of me."

"Come on, luv." But he loosened his grip the tiniest bit and she started down the hall again.

"Maggie…" he sighed. "Where are you goin'?"

"Out."

**TBC**


	18. The Bigger Picture

AN: Just two chapters after this. I've also been working on a story for Ava that would be set four years after the S2 finale. I'm just doing it for me, to get rid of all these ideas in my overactive imagination, but think I might post it if there are any takers. (That's code for tell me if you want to read it, otherwise, it stays on my laptop ;) It would be about Ava and…a certain Son.

**Chapter 18: The Bigger Picture**

"I don't even know why I do this anymore," Maggie grumbled to herself. She did a left-right scan of Main Street and then swung the truck out into the light flow of traffic. The _click _of the turn signal shutting off was loud inside the cab, the only other sound the thrum of the engine. The radio was off, the windows rolled up tight.

Maggie flicked her eyes over to Glen in the passenger seat. "What, no snappy comeback?"

He shrugged leather clad shoulders and stared through the windshield. "Nothin' I say right now's gonna get you in a better mood. So…" another shrug.

She choked up her grip on the steering wheel and checked the side mirrors. R.J. was still tailing them, just as Piney had ordered. _Nobody gets in, nobody leaves without an escort. _It was a little hard to pull off an angry storming out with two babysitters in tow.

Two miles from the garage and the smell of Fiona's perfume still burned the insides of her nostrils. The thought of that woman's hands all over Chibs triggered her gag reflex. She swallowed for the hundredth time, fighting the bile that pushed at the base of her throat. Knowing that the Irishwoman was a part of his past had been hard, but understandable. But now…if he still had feelings there…she didn't know how to handle that.

She didn't realize she was veering across into the oncoming lane until the other driver honked at her. She snapped the wheel hard to the right, overcompensating. "Shit!"

"Do I need to drive?" Glen asked dryly.

She wanted to cuss him and instead pulled into an empty parking space in front of Floyd's. Glen, thankfully, didn't say a word as she put the Ford in park and then climbed out of the cab. They traded places, her going around the hood, him around the tailgate, and then they were back on the road with a much calmer driver behind the wheel.

"Where are we going, darlin'?" he asked after a few silent moments.

Maggie braced an elbow on the window ledge and sighed. "Don't give a shit. Just keep driving."

"Roger that."

She stared through the window for a long while, watching the shops and then houses slide past, checking for R.J. every so often and wincing inwardly when she saw the busted up rear fender of her truck. Amidst all the chaos, no one had been afforded the chance to get the pickup on the lifts and inspect the damage. She wished those Irish pricks had been driving a plastic, foreign number that would have crumbled easily against her American steel.

"Glen," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Condoms are your best friend. Remember that."

She figured he wanted to press her about that statement, but was glad he stayed silent. Telling him to never have kids just seemed too bleak for words.

**-O-**

Maggie knew she was being stupid, keeping two of the guys out on guard duty because she was pitching a fit. They stopped for ice cream and just cruised, slow and easy, no hurry. They were headed back in the general direction of the clubhouse when a black Crown Vic swung up behind R.J. and fired up the red and blue lights hidden along its dash. The siren pierced the quiet of the town, screaming through the truck's windows, and Maggie panicked even though she knew it was the cops and not the Irish.

"Fuck, man," Glen muttered as he checked the rearview.

Behind them, R.J. waved a gloved hand, frowning. _What the hell do we do here?_

"Pull over," Maggie said, her brain finally kicking in. "We don't need to drag this bullshit back to the clubhouse."

Glen snorted in displeasure, but eased the truck over into one of the parallel parking slots at the edge of the street. R.J. pulled his bike to a grumbling halt as well and toed out the kickstand.

Maggie's heart pounded as she waited for the cop to get out, déjà vu slamming into her hard. This situation was far too similar to her first run in with Jimmy.

But no one exited the sedan. Just when the wait was starting to become unbearable, a silver Camry pulled up behind the unmarked cruiser and a woman climbed out of the passenger door. Maggie watched her approach, taking note of the cream, wilted suit and slim figure, the thick mane of strawberry blond hair. Alarm bells started going off in her head but she said nothing, watching as the woman came closer and closer. She caught the glint of a badge on her belt and the fugly shoes. This wasn't just a cop. This was something worse.

The suit drew up to the side of the truck, looking down her nose from behind her shades, smirking as she scanned the damage to the tailgate and fenders. Maggie schooled her face into Tig-worthy lockdown as the woman reached the window and rapped on the glass.

"Miss Lawson?" her voice was muffled. "A word?" For emphasis, she unclipped her badge and pressed it to the window. ATF. Oh shit.

A shuffling from behind the wheel turned Maggie's attention to Glen. He was going for his sidearm which wasn't a good call considering the male agent poised on his side of the truck.

"It's okay," she soothed with a shaky voice. "Lemme just talk to this bitch and we'll get going again. Glen?"

He frowned, but shook his head. "Cops or not, this bitch tries to cuff you, we're popping her."

How sweet. She offered him a ghost of a smile and then opened the door, pushing it out quickly so the agent had to back up a step. When they were facing each other on the sidewalk, Maggie folded her arms and turned loose her bitchy side. "What do you want?"

"Well, that's certainly a fine how-do-ya-do," the agent said with a tight chuckle.

Maggie was silent, checking over her shoulder to confirm her fear that R.J. had guns trained on him as well.

"Fine," the agent sniffed. "We'll make this short and to the point. My name is Agent Stahl, Maggie -,"

Stahl; the one who'd been pressing Chibs to rat on Jimmy. Maggie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.

"-and I'm sure your little boys have told you all about me." Her smile was oily and belonged on a shark.

"Well, if you've been watching the club, you know women aren't privy to the kind of intel you're after."

"Cute. Really. But I know who you are, sweetheart, and you've got some kinda DEFCON four security clearance with the Sons."

Maggie clenched her teeth until her jaw cracked. "You have no idea who I am."

"Oh?" Stahl's brows jumped a little. "So then you're not Margaret Lawson, age thirty six, Gemma Teller's cousin, Chibs Telford's Old Lady? Mother of a little SOA rugrat? What's her name again…Ava, is it?"

She curled her arms around her middle tighter and didn't answer. This gash had some kind of info gathering network.

The agent sniffed, a bit of tightly controlled temper flaring in her eyes. "Fine. But before you go and run your little ass back to your biker boys…" she withdrew a folded piece of paper from inside her blazer and extended it into the air between them. "You might be curious to take a look at this."

Maggie accepted it hesitantly and dread pooled in her gut as she unfolded the high gloss paper. It was a surveillance photo; a run-down building marked with restroom male and female stick figures, a Harley parked in front. The dirt road and overhanging, scruffy evergreens – she didn't have to ask what sort of off-the-beaten-path place this was. And the anarchist's symbol airbrushed on the tank of the bike told her exactly who it belonged to.

"What do you think they were doing there, Maggie?" Stahl asked quietly. "Talking? Remembering old times? I hardly think so."

Maggie's hand trembled, the paper crackling as she met the agent's eyes.

"You and I both know he can't let go of his old life," Stahl went on in that eerily comforting tone. "I know what Jimmy tried to do to you – hurting you, endangering your unborn child like that – that's not something you forgive and forget, is it? And Chibs, if he really cared, he wouldn't be able to get past it either."

The sun angled, the light beams blinding as they struck off the other woman's skin, danced through her perfect hair. Maggie knew what was coming before it left her lips. Time slowed down, the whole world shrinking away except for this ATF agent and the bloodthirsty glint in her eyes. This was a one time opportunity and Maggie had one shot to get it right.

"Chibs wouldn't get revenge for you…he won't protect your kid. But you can, Maggie. You can end all this."

"What…what do you want?" Maggie asked again, voice sounding small.

Stahl smiled like a cat with a mouse finally cornered. "Jimmy. You give me him and I promise you'll be untouched."

A shiver raced through her, a coldness that was as real as a fast sluice of waiter. Very slowly, Maggie started refolding the photo and then slipped it in her pocket.

Stahl pushed back the halves of her blazer as she propped her hands on her hips. "What's it gonna be?"

"I think," Maggie said slowly, reaching back blindly and putting a hand on her truck. "That you should go fuck yourself, _Agent_."

**-O-**

"I like your shoes."

Ava glanced down at her hundred year old Converse sneakers and shrugged. She loved them too. "Thanks."

Next to her on the sofa, Ellie Winston was mostly quiet, offering little nothing snippets of conversation here and there. Almost all the guys had left, leaving only a handful she wasn't familiar with, and sitting with Opie's kids wasn't doing anything to cheer her up.

On the other side of her, Kenny was swinging his too short legs off the edge of the couch and trying to ignore Piper as best he could. "Which one's your dad?" he asked her.

"Chibs," Ava responded flatly. She wanted to say _the asshole who pissed off my mom and then took off._

Both younger kids looked confused, which just confused her. They lived in Charming, didn't they know these things?

"The scars?" she asked, drawing invisible lines across her cheeks with her fingertips.

Both nodded.

The quiet of the crowd in the room was broken as the door opened and some of the guys returned. Hap and Koz came in with a third guy – she was pretty sure his name was Cougar – and headed for the bar.

"I'll be back," Ava told the Winston kids, knowing she wouldn't. "Koz!"

He and Hap both turned, the latter scowling. She wondered, but wasn't so stupid to think that he might be pissed she hadn't addressed him. He was tired of her and no doubt glad she was after Kozik for a change.

"Wassup?" Koz asked, accepting the shot a Crow Eater slid towards him.

Ava joined them, determined to focus on him and him alone. "Have you seen my mom?"

He frowned thoughtfully and Happy scowled, looking just as mad and heated as before in the weight room. "She's not back?" his voice sounded deeper and raspier in his enraged state.

"No," Ava wanted to take a step back from the intensity of his expression. "She's been gone since before you guys left."

Koz shrugged. "She's got Glen and R.J. for backup…she's fine, kiddo."

Hap was still agitated. "You call her?"

"It went straight to voicemail."

"Shit." He rubbed a hand back across his bare scalp, tatoos rolling. "Why can't the two of you just stay put, huh? Jesus…" He headed for the door, tossing a farewell over his shoulder at Koz.

When he was gone, the Tacoma Sgt at Arms gave Ava a raised brow look. "Do you really have to do that to him?"

She frowned. "What?"

He sighed like she was stupid and rolled his eyes. "Please. Like you don't know. That dude's wrapped so tight around your finger it's a wonder he's loose enough to even take a piss. Why do you have to make things harder on him?"

"I don't!" she protested.

"Yeah. Suuuuure."

"He's not wrapped around my finger."

Koz slapped her on the shoulder as if she were another of his guy buddies. "You're a chick. He's a dude. He cares about you. Don't think about that too hard or your head will hurt. Let him do what he does best."

He turned around, dismissing her. Even more muddled than before, Ava headed back for the sofa to see if she couldn't make some sense of his "wisdom".

**-O-**

The clubhouse was back to full capacity when Maggie returned with not just Glen and R.J., but Happy as well. The Nomad looked ready to breathe fire when he'd caught up with them on the trip back.

Now, Maggie dreaded facing Chibs again, because she knew what she was going to do, but didn't know if she possessed the emotional strength to get through it. She blew Ava a kiss on her way through the common room, taking note of the teen's obvious sigh of relief, and snagged Chibs' gaze among all the faces of the other Sons.

"We need to talk," she told him, pulling his sleeve as she headed for the dorms.

"We're gettin' ready to leave," he said brusquely, trying to shove away from her.

"This won't take long."

He followed her reluctantly back to his room and shifted around on his boots as she shut and locked the door. "I have to head out, Maggie, I don't have time -,"

"I talked to Agent Stahl."

That shut him up.

"And she gave me this." Maggie presented the surveillance shot and watched his face go slack.

"What did you say to her?" he was quiet, almost fearful.

Maggie set her jaw in a hard line to keep it from quivering as she grabbed up one of the Bic lighters on his nightstand. "She wanted me to rat on Jimmy, fed me a line about you not being able to shrug off Fiona and protect Ava and me."

His brows cranked down in a flare of anger. "That's bullshit."

"I know," she said, feeling a little breathless, and not for the right reason. "And I also know you have a past…just like I do. And mine pops up to bite me in the ass every now and then too." A mental image of her and Tig together the night they'd both been whacked out ran through her head and she wondered if Chibs could read her mind as his frown deepened. She took a deep breath. "Stahl reminded me that there will always be people trying to tear this family apart…this club. I won't be cheated on, I won't, Chibs, but…some things…I'm gonna have to learn to let go. I lose myself in the petty shit sometimes and forget about the bigger picture."

His face changed, eyes widening as she threw his own words back at him. "You have two girls. And you wouldn't want one of their mothers to end up dead."

Chibs nodded slowly. "Aye."

Maggie clicked on the lighter and touched it to the edge of the picture, holding it as it caught fire and blazed, dropping it and stomping it out on the carpet when the fire tickled the ends of her fingers.

"Go kick ass, baby," she said when she met his eyes again.

He nodded and almost smiled. "That was the plan."

**-O-**

His lips tasted like one last shot of Jack and nothing else. Maggie pulled away slowly and searched his face for a final time. She'd always liked the way he looked in a helmet, the ends of his shaggy hair flipping out from under the edges. She knew he was a little worried – they all were – but there was a part of him that relished the thought of a fight.

"Be safe," she said, voice cracking.

Chibs nodded and push started his bike to life, the Dyna roaring and adding to the thunder of the others. All the boys were ready, an armed fleet of soldiers ready to do battle for their Queen's honor. It frightened her, and stirred an admiring tremble deep within her. This was what made the MC so powerful; its ability to act within its own laws, but outside those of society. Whatever it took to ensure its sovereignty over Charming…and its validation of family and royalty.

She kissed him one last time and then retreated, walking down the long row of bikes. Juice was more serious than she'd seen him. Jax, Ope, and Clay were still telling their women goodbye. She paused, just a moment, to step in beside Tig and drop a kiss on the cold, hard plastic of his helmet. He nodded and then she moved on again.

Ava was with the other kids, hugging herself, unshed tears glittering in her eyes. Maggie pulled the girl into her arms and watched the President and VP get settled on their Harleys.

"Pray for them," she whispered. "Pray hard."

Ava nodded, her glossy hair rubbing Maggie's cheek.

As the Sons pulled out of the lot, Maggie tracked the impressive fleet of steel, muttering her own prayers under her breath. She saw the Nomad snipers on the roof, the sentries at the gates who nodded as the mounted Sons rolled past. She had this fleeting thought of watching knights ride into battle, and hugged Ava tighter. Chibs, Jax, Clay, Happy, Tig, Koz…everyone needed to come home. Everyone.

**-O-**

It was dark when Ava opened her eyes and she was struck by a momentary panic. Where was she? What time was it? Where was everyone?

All those questions were answered as a lamp clicked on and light flooded the room. She blinked and swatted at the brightness with a tired hand, pushing up on her elbows. She was on her stomach on a bed, still dressed, sneakers tangled in the sheets. She heard the jingles and thunks of pockets being emptied: a wallet and its chain, some loose change, the plastic click of a cell phone on wood.

As her eyes adjusted, she scanned the figure standing in front of the dresser and realized, with something like horror, that it was Happy.

She must have ventured into his loaner dorm earlier, while all the guys were still out, and had fallen asleep. In the glass of the dresser mirror, his eyes met hers. There was a streak of blood across one hard cheek, his eyes dark as he coiled up his belt and set it beside his other personal items.

"I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry," Ava said in a dizzy rush as she struggled upright. Disoriented from sleep, she floundered as she righted herself, ashamed and embarrassed and a little afraid of what he would say now that he'd found her asleep on his bed, clutching onto the pillow that smelled like him for dear life.

"It's fine," he rasped tiredly. "Go back to sleep."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. There was no way she could lay back down, not after all the shitty attitude she'd given him over the past couple of days. The fact that he could even still look at her was a miracle.

"We didn't get 'em," he said and she halted her movements, meeting his hard look in the mirror again. He braced both hands on the dresser and sighed, shoulders sagging. She rarely saw him this way and was transfixed, unable to get up as she studied the weary set of his jaw. "We were supposed to get these guys…and we didn't."

Ava hadn't been told all the ins and outs, but she knew that something bad had happened to Gemma…been _done_…to Gemma, and that the guys were out for blood. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "That sucks."

He nodded, his obsidian irises still trained on her by way of their reflections.

Looking at him, guilt rolled through her. She'd been so hard on him, asked for things he had no business giving her, and been a demanding little brat. All of that and he was still trying to do right by her. _I'm trying to protect you…_

Her eyes started to sting and she wiped at them, unable to stem the tears that started rolling down her cheeks. She felt so very young and stupid. She wanted him to be her white night as a boyfriend, but he'd been one all along. Her protector. Her bodyguard. And she'd been such a bitch.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, not meaning the botched plans this time. "I'm sorry, Hap, I'm so, so sorry…" she inhaled sharply, one of those dry breaths that came before full-on sobs and couldn't stop it.

She shut her eyes when he turned towards her, not wanting to look at him when he told her what a brat she'd been. When he finally unleashed on her. She wasn't expecting the warm, rough hand on the side of her neck and her eyes snapped open.

Happy was right in front of her, their faces inches apart. Her breath caught as his thumb started a slow stroke up the side of her throat, rubbing over her pounding pulse. He cocked his head to the side, eyes sharp, features tight and studious like those of an animal, and not a human. As if a wolf was studying her. Might as well be – just as deadly.

Her heart thundered as he leaned forward and then she felt his cheek against her own wet one, the barest hint of stubble against her skin. Her legs trembled, knees knocking together. _Oh God, oh God, oh God…_

And then his free arm banded around her back and hugged her, hard. "I'm not mad at you," his voice was a deep throated purr. "You're a hard headed kid, but I can't stay pissed at you, sweetheart. You know that."

Her tears started flowing again and she buried her face into his cotton covered shoulder, a hand twisting up into the fabric over his chest. Her knuckles grazed the hard flat of his chest and her breath hitched. All the burnt out emotions of the past few weeks unlocked the filter that separated what she thought from what she said. That, and she just didn't care anymore.

"Happy…please, I just…I…this is all…and…I lo-,"

Her words were halted as his lips brushed her neck where his hand rested. It wasn't a real kiss, not like what she wanted, but enough to send her into a full body shiver. His clothes rustled as he shifted back on his heels and then he kissed her forehead. His lips stayed against her skin as he spoke.

"When you're older," he said quietly. "You're not ready for that…when you're older."

Ava stared up at him in shock as he pulled away. Neither of them said it, but the clench of his jaw and his single nod were meaningful enough.

"Now, go back to sleep." Happy headed for the recliner in the corner of the room.

As she settled back onto the mattress and toed off her shoes, a strange electricity hummed through Ava's body. Hap turned off the lamp and she closed her watery eyes chanting _when you're older _to herself over and over.

**-O-**

Chibs found Maggie in his dorm room when he returned. It was late, but she was cross legged on the bed, wearing one of his baggy, dark sweatshirts and a pair of black panties, flipping through a bike mag. If he wasn't exhausted and sore all over, riding the fallout of not getting Zobelle or Weston, he would have smiled to see her like that. She look young, hair pulled over one shoulder, lips moving silently as she read.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his entrance. She frowned and he knew she was scanning the bruises and blood streaks across his face and clothes. Her shoulders slouched as she closed the magazine and sighed. "You guys didn't get them, did you?"

Chibs sat down beside her and held his hair off his face, thinking he ought to just break down and cut it, and feeling her eyes on him.

Maggie's hand landed on his shoulder, then he felt the soft brush of her hair as she laid her head against him.

There were a number of things he wanted to say to her. _I'm glad you changed your mind…good thing you didn't rat to Stahl…I'm sorry I've put you through all this shit…_but instead he ran a hand down her thigh. He'd always been better with the physical than the verbal. And as she slid down to the floor, her hands on his knees, he thought the same was probably true of his woman too.

**TBC**


	19. Bloodline

AN: Just to warn – this isn't overly exciting. Next chapter wraps everything up and then I'll start posting Ava's fic a week or so after that.

**Chapter 19: Bloodline**

Chibs awoke at five a.m. the next morning with a brand new conviction. He was done wondering and worrying if Maggie was in fact going to stick around. If she said she was fine – which she had more or less the night before – then he was going to take her at her word. And as for the day that had yet to break over the horizon, he was dedicated to one person and one person only. Jax would get his revenge today. On Zobelle and Weston; his own revenge was never going to happen, but he could by God help Jackie-boy get his.

He dressed in the dark, worked on a cigarette, and did a full rundown of his weapons: knife, backup knife, .45, it was all ready to go. He woke Maggie and then left, nearly colliding with Happy out in the hall.

The Nomad had an uncharacteristic look of surprise on his face, one that made Chibs a bit suspicious. But, he reminded himself, today was about Jax. "Ava okay?" he asked, having already assumed where his daughter had been the night before.

Happy's dark eyes widened, but he nodded, calm and self assured. "Still asleep. She's good."

They continued down the hall together, silent, and joined the growing crowd in the common room. There were still civilians asleep on the couches, but all the Sons were awake. Most of the guys had showered and changed, Juice was still in the process of dressing at the bar. But Clay and Jax were in the previous night's bloody clothes, greasy, dirty and tired.

Chibs went to the VP and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "We'll get 'em, Jackie-boy. I swear."

Jax didn't smile, just nodded. "Yeah. We will. Thanks, bro."

**-O-**

Maggie woke up feeling like she'd missed something. She was alone in the room and the light through the blinds was building. Cursing, she dressed and hurried down the hall.

No one had left yet, but they seemed ready to, the guys antsy. Maggie found Gemma with her purse over her shoulder, sunglasses in her hair. "Gem, what's going on?"

"They're going down to the station to wait it out," she said quietly, scanning the crowd. "Doc and I are heading down there with them."

Maggie spotted Tara by the door, Abel bundled up in his carrier. "What about…" she swept her arms out to indicate the clubhouse full of women, children and out of town Sons "…all this?"

"We're still on lockdown."

Maggie studied her cousin's face, reading the stress behind the Queenly front. Gemma had been holding the club up since its conception, and now she needed someone else to hold the reins while she sorted out her own shit.

"Go," Maggie said. "I'll hold down the fort till you get back."

Gemma's sigh was relief mixed with guilt. "Thanks, baby," she pulled Maggie into a quick hug. "God, I'm so glad you're back."

For some reason, those words gave Maggie pause, but she didn't get to mull over the thought as Gemma pushed away and headed for the door. The guys were leaving too and Maggie grabbed at Chibs' cut as he walked past.

He turned towards her. "You gonna be alright here, luv?"

She smiled. Whatever else he was, he was always worried about everyone around him rather than himself. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

**-O-**

A phone call several hours later confirmed everyone's negative suspicions. Zobelle and Weston had both been released and were back out in society. Maggie closed her cell with a sigh. It was just a little after ten and she was already feeling stir crazy.

She did a tour around the clubhouse, making sure everyone was more or less comfortable. Most of the guys, even the Nomads were out, which alleviated some of the unrelenting pressure caused by the number of bodies crammed into the building.

Maggie found Ava, not surprisingly, in the dorm that Hap was using, stretched out on the floor drawing. "Hey, you," she nudged her in the leg with the toe of her boot before she sat on the bed.

"Hey," Ava responded dully.

"You spend the night in here?"

The girl sighed. "Nothing happened, Mom."

:"I know."

Ava craned around to look over her shoulder. _Really? _her eyes asked.

"I trust Hap."

She grinned, just a little, and Maggie was curious. "What?"

"Nothing." Ava shrugged and turned back to her sketches.

"Uh-huh," Maggie said with a chuckle. "I know that smile; it's the same one your dad tries to pull when he's in trouble."

"Ugh. Don't compare me to Dad. We're nothing alike."

"Good God…" Maggie stood, struck with a sudden idea. "You just can't get over this, can you? I'll be back." She went down the hall to the weight room, leaving her daughter frowning curiously behind her. Thankfully, old habits died hard, and Maggie found the two shoeboxes in the wall cabinet right where she'd expected. Ava was sitting up leaned back against the bed when she returned. Maggie bit back her smile, pleased that her hormonal grumpiness could be overridden by a little mystery.

"What's in the boxes?"

_Gotcha. _"Sit up here with me." Maggie resettled on the bed and popped off a box top, fanning at the cloud of dust that puffed into the air.

She was a little shocked that Ava actually did join her, tucking her long dark hair behind her ears so she could peer into the first shoebox. Maggie skipped her fingers across the long row of back-to-back photos until she found a loose one. It was old shot that had yellowed with time, back when she'd been a newbie in Charming, and just her luck, it was a picture of Chibs, Jax and Opie. "Check that out."

Ava took it gingerly and squinted. "Oh God…is that _Dad_?"

"Yup," Maggie grinned. "He was some kinda hot, huh?"

"Mom!"

"He was! And look, that's Jax and Ope."

Ava chuckled. "Look at their hair…damn." She turned towards Maggie, eyes dancing with laughter, and her smile was so genuine for a change, Maggie thought maybe, just maybe, this plan would work.

"You have any more?"

"Oh yeah," Maggie started pulling out pictures by the handful. "More than you can look at."

Oblivious to the John Wayne style standoff on Main Street, mother and daughter looked through dozens, maybe even hundreds of old SOA photographs. Maggie found her own face smiling up at her from a few; with her cousins or the guys. One rather cozy picture had prompted an explanation about Tig – one that had left Ava scowling. But then she'd found a collection of pics from her few short months with Chibs. They looked young and vital, happy and very much enthralled with one another.

Ava was holding a shot that had been taken a few weeks after Maggie had found out she was pregnant. Chibs was standing behind her, arms around her waist, chin resting on top of her head. They were in front of Clay and Gemma's house and though Maggie looked pale and limp after all her morning sickness, she was smiling broadly.

Ava smoothed a thumb across the glossy photo, not quite smiling, but not frowning either.

"I'd just found out I was pregnant with you," Maggie said quietly. "Your dad was proud – freaked as hell – but so proud."

Ava met her mother's stare, wide eyed.

"The doctors…after my attack, what with my heart and all…they told me it would be best to abort you."

"Mom-,"

"But I refused. I wouldn't let them take you out just for my sake."

Ava paled, her brows drawing together. Maggie felt guilty; this wasn't the sort of thing a kid needed to hear, but Ava was different. And her understanding was important. "You and I survived all that shit. Irish, genetic heart defects…my mother…don't give up on me now. And don't give up on your dad. We'll come out on the other side of this clusterfuck just fine."

Ava pulled in a shaky breath, shaking her head as if to chase away the thought that she was almost a Planned Parenthood statistic rather than a person.

"One of these days, you're gonna be all grown up and doing your own thing. But now, I still need you, kiddo."

It was silent a beat and Ava stared off into space. Maggie chewed at her lip, worried her tactics weren't working. This was why parents always lied to their children. The truth was harsh.

She took a deep breath. "Ava, baby, I want nothing more than to tell you that moving here's gonna be easy. I know it'll be the hardest thing you've ever had to do."

That earned her another of those disbelieving stares.

"But we have to try, we have -,"

"Okay."

Maggie was shocked. "Okay?"

Ava sighed. "I'm tired of fighting with you, Mom." Her expression was pained. "And, well…Gemma and Jax…Hap…hell, _Koz _have all been telling me what's what. I just…" she trailed off and then pulled in a deep breath, seemingly drawing strength from the air as she squared her shoulders. She pegged Maggie with a serious look. "We're an MC family, Mom. And we gotta do what's best for the club. Your cousins in Charming need you, I think. Dad too."

Maggie was dumbfounded, utterly speechless. She stared at her daughter a moment, wondering when in the hell she'd grown up, and then crushed her into a hug, holding her tight so she couldn't see the stunned expression on her face.

"You're an amazing girl, you know that?"

**-O-**

_Poor fucker _Chibs thought as they climbed back into the van, then quickly chased the sentiment away. He did not feel bad for A.J. Weston. That man's monstrosity was not something to be pitied or even understood. What he'd done to Gemma was no doubt just one of many transgressions against mankind in the name his race, and the mental images the retelling had stirred in him made his blood boil. So he surely didn't wish things had gone differently. He was glad the bastard was dead, proud of his Jackie-boy for pulling the trigger.

But Weston's calmness had been unnerving. The ease with which he'd acquiesced, his lack of resistance, relegated to death not out of guilt, but out of the understanding that he was going to be killed and he might as well face it head on – literally. Chibs had killed before, they all had, but it had been a lucky shot in the melee, a bead on a Mayan who was shooting at them, or a quick knife jab in a fist fight.

He had never shot a man at close range who didn't defend himself. Never watched the target of all his hatred sit quietly on a filthy toilet and let his head get pumped with lead without so much as a twitch. He had imagined doing something similar to Jimmy countless times, taking a knife to his face first, ruining him before he killed him. But as of yet that burden didn't weigh him down like it most certainly did Jax.

They sat silently in the van a moment, their breathing the only sound, and Chibs finally climbed out and went around to the driver's side. "Jackie-boy," he nudged the VP, rousing him from his sightless stare through the windshield. "Move over."

As if in a trance, Jax slid over into the other seat and Chibs got behind the wheel. As he shut the door, Chibs glanced up and shared a look with Opie through the rearview mirror. Ope looked more lucid than he had in months, cheeks hard ridges that stood out under his beard. They nodded at one another and a silent understanding was traded. They would take care of their boy, no matter the cost.

Because one day Jax would see justice done for both of them. And he was their brother. Replacing the image of Weston's cooling body with a mental picture of Jimmy, Chibs put the van in gear and headed back to the clubhouse.

**-O-**

Long after her mother left to check on things, Ava sat on the bed, pictures fanned out all around her. Some of them were old, from back before her mother had come to Charming. And some were newer; taken as recently as when Half-Sack had become the Prospect. And somehow, amongst all these photos of Happy and Tig, Juice and Opie, she kept going back to the ones of her father. There were fourteen years of Chibs evidenced on glossy eight by tens spread before her. The boxer, the biker, the happy expectant father…the man she had loved and hated in equal parts.

She picked up the shot of her parents for the fifteenth time and studied it under the lamp light. They were young a happy. She idly wondered what would have happened to them if she had never been conceived. Maggie would most likely have gone to Seattle and without a baby, there would have been no reason for Chibs to keep in contact.

Then again, how many fathers abandoned their children without a backwards glance? Her mind was flooded with images of Christmases and bedtime stories told with a thick accent. She remembered those secret phone calls. The mailed birthday presents. The emails. Chibs could have stayed out of her life…but he hadn't.

Ava swiped at her eyes, telling herself it was just the dust from the old shoeboxes, and stuffed the picture in her back pocket as she stood. She would keep it with her to hang up in their new house; in Charming.

**-O-**

The tenor is Happy's voice when he told Jax that he was proud of him was strange; it would have seemed sarcastic coming from anyone else. But it was as if Hap was genuinely surprised the VP had been able to pull the trigger, and likewise proud that he'd had the balls. Maggie was glad Ava was still down the hall. She kept at her task of filling shots and trying to look unobtrusive behind the bar, relieved that her daughter didn't yet know all the dark, dangerous depths of Hap's heart.

She shelved the bottle of whiskey and couldn't help but catch Chibs' look from across the room. Whatever he'd witnessed while he'd been out with Jax was weighing heavily on him. Opie too from the looks of it.

Maggie slipped between bodies and over to his position propped up against a support column. "Hey, baby," she said quietly, sliding and arm around his waist, resting her head against his chest.

He didn't answer, but rubbed her arm in an unconscious gesture.

The rest of the guys were heading into the chapel and Maggie pulled away. "You better get goin'."

"Aye," Chibs said, but didn't move to follow his boys. Instead he tipped her head back with a curled knuckle and kissed her, long and deep. "Love ya, sweetheart," he smiled briefly as he pulled away.

Maggie grinned, realizing it was the first time he'd ever actually said that to her. "Love you too. Be careful."

**-O-**

For the second time that day, Maggie watched the boys leave the clubhouse ready to do battle. They filed out of the chapel, each carrying a shotgun, all of them stone faced and staring straight ahead. Beside her, Ava watched with something like awe as Redwood and Tacoma made their way out to their bikes.

"Where are they going?" the girl asked quietly.

"To protect their family," Maggie said. She felt something smooth across her palm and looked down to realize Ava was holding her hand. She squeezed her daughter's fingers. 'They'll come back alright," she soothed herself as well as Ava. "Things will work out fine."

**TBC**


	20. Carry On

AN: And so we've come to the end. This is very melodramatic, I will warn, cheesy even. Whatever. I'm just glad I was able to finish. I have read many interpretations of the S2 finale and I wanted mine to be a little different.

Thank you bunches to all my amazing reviewers, your support means a lot to a broke college student! Watch for Ava's story soon…I haven't got the name nailed down, but it's coming.

**Chapter 20: Carry On**

**January 1994**

"That's not the way you do it."

"Yeah? Then show me," Jax challenged from his stance a few feet away. He was dropped low in a fight stance, fists up, and frown nasty as Chibs tried to correct his posture.

"Fine," the Scotsman sighed, getting to his feet and joining the teenage biker.

Maggie hid her grin behind the king size Three Musketeers she'd felt the need to buy earlier. Damn sugar cravings. Chibs was in front of Jax now, adjusting his hands, pushing on his shoulders. Jax seemed more agitated by the second, like he was itching for a real fight to erupt between them. He acted cool with Chibs most of the time, but every so often, his temper and protectiveness towards his cousin got the best of him. This was one of those times.

"You look happy."

Maggie glanced sideways at Opie. He'd been so quiet thus far she'd almost forgotten he was on the picnic table with her. Her smile turned suspicious as she studied his face. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged shoulders that were too wide for his skinny frame. "I dunno," his eyes cut over to the sparring action in front of them, then back to her. "You just…I haven't seen you smile so much. Ever. You really like Chibs."

"Yeah," she felt her original beaming grin return. "Yeah I do."

He nodded. "You two are good together. Right, you know?"

"What, like you and Donna?"

He shrugged and blushed a little. "I'm just saying, if you want to be somebody's Old Lady, he's your guy."

"Opie Winston, I never took you for a hopeless romantic!"

His blush deepened, but his expression was proud. "I have many talents…"

A _thump _of skin-on-skin drew both their attentions in time to see Chibs land a good one to Jax's solar plexus. "Son of a …"

**Present Day**

For some reason, at the peak of stress, that memory was the one her mind threw up as a shield to all the bad news she was hearing. And for some reason, it coincided with the fact that of all the boys, Opie was the only one with enough strength and consciousness of thought to tell her what had occurred over the past several hours. All the time she'd been hanging around the clubhouse, feeding Ava bullshit encouragements about how everything would be okay and everyone would be fine…and the world had been crumbling around them.

She felt something warm and wet on her hand, uncurled her fingers, and realized she was gripping the picnic table so hard that its rough edges were biting into her skin. She watched blood drip across her knuckles and tried to make sense of the deep, tight sound of Opie's voice.

Half-Sack was dead. Abel was gone. Gemma was gone. Zobelle had escaped. His daughter was dead. An Irish kid was dead. Half-Sack was dead. Abel was gone. Gemma was gone…

"Maggie?"

Her head snapped up out of automatic reaction and she found Opie's face, exhausted and drawn. He was standing in front of her, eyes pleading for her to stay with him here. "What?" she asked, voice a strangled croak.

She saw Jax sitting on his ass against the clubhouse wall, his face a red and blotchy mess, trembling hands rubbing across his eyes over and over. Clay was with him, not looking much better himself.

"Where's Chibs?"

"He went down to ID the body," Opie said heavily.

"The body…?" she trailed off when she remembered that Half-Sack had been his Prospect. God, it must be killing him that the kid was dead. "Where's Tara?"

"I don't know."

"Where -,"

"Maggie."

She shook her head, hard, trying desperately to clear it. None of it made sense. There was no way this much awful shit could happen all at once. She refused to believe it.

"Mags, can you do this?"

Sheer panic was pushing hard at the edges of her self control, and Maggie pushed back as she focused on Opie's face, just tuned out everything but him.

"I…they…_we_ need you right now, Maggie. We do."

He didn't say for what, but she understood. A mental image of Gemma and the little stress lines etched into her face as she had hugged Maggie the last time came to her. _I'm so glad you're back, baby. _

Maggie stood and put her hands on her hips to steady them. "I know," she said. "And I'm here."

**-O-**

It had been two weeks and they were still no closer to finding anyone. Gemma, Abel, the Irishman who'd taken him and killed the Prospect…no leads. In any direction. It had become a routine of survival, and everyone was running on cigarettes and booze, seeking the little solaces available when they could.

Maggie woke that Thursday stretched out on her stomach, the sheets on Jax's spare bed cool on her skin. She shifted against her sore body's protests, already knowing what was to come as the mattress dipped beside her. She pushed up on her elbows, lifted her hips, sleepy but ready as Chibs rolled over and climbed on top of her.

Maggie was tired and sore from use, but her body responded as his hands went up and then back down her sides, settling on her hips. Sex had been an affirmation of life, a reminder of what was here and now, living in the present. She felt a little guilty, knowing her cousin was on the other side of the wall, childless and so far from Tara mentally that the doc had moved all her shit out and made it official. She bit down on a ragged spot inside her cheek to keep quiet as he pounded inside of her, the stiffness and little twinges of pain heightening the oncoming orgasm.

Afterwards, they lay on their sides, face-to-face, eyes at half mast. Maggie traced the scratches she'd left on his chest and frowned. She wanted to stay here and pretend the day ahead wasn't coming. Another twelve hours at T-M, manning the phones and helping the guys with whatever, staring out the window and fighting the sting of tears at how wrong this all felt. She had wanted to come home to Charming, but not this way. Not to take the Queen's place. And not to watch her little cousin get sucked deeper and deeper into a darkness from which he might not be able to emerge.

"I'll go get him up," Chibs said after awhile, his already deep voice full of gravel.

Maggie pushed through the sheets between them, braced her palms on his chest, and kissed him. It was slow and lingering, wistful. Her heart stuttered when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and tilted her head back. Their interactions had become desperate in the past two weeks, afraid something could happen to one or the both of them at any moment.

But Chibs released her and then climbed out of bed, still, she noted with a smile, ready to go again. Maggie finally pushed off the sheets and tugged on the jeans and t-shirt she'd stripped unceremoniously the night before. She'd shower later…after they made sure Jax was taken care of.

"Toast and eggs?" she asked as she headed for the door.

"Aye."

Ava was still asleep on the couch, one arm over her eyes, little mouth open as she breathed deeply. Maggie moved quietly in the kitchen, trying not to wake her. She clicked on the cook top and pulled a skillet off the rack. Set the eggs and butter on the counter. She was putting bread in the toaster when she saw the remnants of the blood stain on the floor. They'd used every solvent on the market, and still the pool of Half-Sack's blood was visible, a red ghost on the hardwood.

She pushed down the lever on the toaster, knowing she wouldn't be able to eat a bite of it.

**-O-**

"Here. Keys to the last four repos and the paperwork," Tig said flatly as he dropped all of it on the desk in a messy jumble.

"Thanks." Maggie shot him a quick glance, expecting and finding the hard set of his jaw. She had watched with sick fascination as the Sgt at Arms had drawn purpose from the chaos of the past weeks. He seemed sharper, more alert, keener in the midst of all this heartache than he had been when she'd first come to town. That lost, haunted look had left him, and he was now all soldier. She knew he was the only Son keeping the garage afloat right now, and was thankful that he wasn't one of the ones she was trying to hold up.

Tig lingered in the doorway, stare unrelenting, and Maggie shifted in her chair, put off by his intensity. "What?"

"Has Clay talked to you yet?"

"No…"

He nodded. "Go see him, then. We got shit to do."

**-O-**

Clay was at the head of the redwood table in the chapel, a cigar resting between two fingers. He was scowling down at the carved reaper.

Maggie hesitated outside the double doors. In all her life, she'd never been inside the chapel of any SOA clubhouse. Gemma was one of very few women to have breached the sacred threshold, and then it most certainly hadn't been during church. And given Clay's expression, she was thinking a retreat was in order.

Tig's hand pushed lightly between her shoulder blades. "Go on."

Clay glanced up and nodded, as if he'd been waiting for her.

Taking a deep breath, Maggie entered and walked around the head of the table as Tig closed the three of them in.

"Sit," Clay ordered, and she settled into Jax's chair. Across from her, Tig lit up a smoke and braced an elbow on the table, looking to the President expectantly. Maggie folded her hands over the worn wood, feeling itchy and out of place, and waited.

"Cameron…the guy who took Abel," Clay began slowly. Maggie nodded. "We think he's back in Belfast. McGee and his crew have been searching, but so far, nothin'."

She exhaled, only then aware that she'd been holding her breath, praying for good news.

"Jax is goin' to Ireland," Clay said, looking at her for the first time. "And…unfortunately…he's gonna have to reach out."

Maggie glanced at Tig who said nothing. "Reach out…?"

"Jimmy. He's the only one who'll know where Cameron might be hiding. And the only one with the leverage to get the kid back."

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "Okay."

"Now, I'm not saying this to scare you, sweetheart, but I made a deal with Jimmy, about him leaving you alone -,"

"Whatever you have to do, Clay," she interrupted. "You get Abel back, don't worry about me."

He raised his brows. "What I was _gonna _say, is that I want you to be on your toes the next few weeks, don't go anywhere alone. I don't want that asshole thinking he can renege on our deal just 'cause of this shit with Abel."

Maggie's blood pressure dropped out of relief. She'd been afraid this conversation might go a different way.

"Things could get rough, Mags. And with the club split up, we need all the help we can get. You sure you're on board with all this?"

She looked to Tig and then Clay, weighing their faith in her. She wasn't Gemma, but they needed someone, anyone to fill the void right now. "Absolutely."

**-O-**

The last rays of sunlight were fading when Maggie finally switched the phone over to voice mail and shut the office door with a resounding thud behind her. The air was cooling, the breeze crisp as it rolled across the parking lot. Maggie spotted several of the guys propped up on their bikes and the shape up on the roof of the clubhouse looked suspiciously like Jax. Ava was cross-legged on the dropped tailgate of her truck, sketching as always, dark hair shining in the fading light. And Chibs was alone, braced against a pillar of the clubhouse's overhang.

She could tell as she walked towards him that he was in a thinking mood and wouldn't have much to say. That was alright. She was too tired to talk anyway.

One if his arms lifted as she drew near, and Maggie slid beneath it, fitting flush against him nicely. She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body, the solid wall he created against her side. He had a pretty good view of the sunset from here and watching the colors shift on the horizon, next to him like this, reminded her of an evening a long time ago, before things had become complicated.

"Jackie-boy's goin' after Cameron," Chibs said at last.

"I know." She heard the rustle of his hair on his collar as he turned to look down at her. "Clay told me."

"You know…" he took a long, hissing drag on his cigarette "…I have to go with him."

She'd known it was coming, but it killed her a little anyway. Still, she forced a sad smile and braced a hand on his cut as she craned her neck to look up at him. "I know."

"He's my brother. And he'd do the same for me -,"

"I know, baby. I know."

The smile they shared was quiet, and full of a whole lot of words they'd never said, but somehow didn't need to. It had been a very long, very fucked up ride. And it seemed like the pain would always outweigh the pleasure of things. Still, those little pleasures damned sure were worth it at the end of the day.

"When I come home," he started softly. "You'll still be here? You and Ava?"

The question, and the tenor of his voice confirmed her decision. She would have said it anyway, but it felt so much easier now. "You know we will."

**The End**


End file.
